


Pride & Stupidity

by Opentrashcan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Anime Canon Compliant (post), Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Homophobia, How Do I Tag, Kuroo/Tsukki beng little shits, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Slow Burn, but not too much Angst, more smut to come, straight to gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 100,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25786687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opentrashcan/pseuds/Opentrashcan
Summary: Tsukishima has closed the chapter of his High School life at Karasuno. Ready to open a new chapter, a university chapter in Tokyo, where all hurt pride, half-assed attempts and unnecessary people could be left behind. He is living at a small studio apartment near the University with Yamaguchi, and he has his girlfriend. Coincidentally, Kuroo's situation is not much different. What more should they need? Or the question should rather be, what more could they need to fill the missing piece?  A fateful reunion between Tsukishima and Kuroo's girlfriends, forces both boys to confront past hatred and misguided feelings. And may also open them both up for more than they had bargained for
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Yachi Hitoka/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 87
Kudos: 130





	1. A New Chapter

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the first fanfic I have ever written (If you ignore a very unfinished sasunaru fanfic from I was 14), and I will appreciate feedback and helpful criticism of everything from my writing, spacing, tags etc. 
> 
> The first couple of chapters will be kinda slow as they will provide background information of who Tsukishima and Kuroo are at this point in time, how they have grown, how they think and their experiences. Hopefully, it will all make sense as you read it. 
> 
> And also that it will make sense as a fictional story, University has for the last 4 years drained anything creative out of me... sigh. But I love a challenge. 
> 
> But most of all, I hope you guys enjoy it

**A New Chapter**

**Tsukishima.**

**Excerpt from Tsukishima Kei's diary:** _The fact that I have to make use of a diary these days to make sense of reality is beyond humiliating in so many ways and must remain a strictly guarded secret. However, I have come to the logical conclusion that finally having some intellectual conversation, that is to say- with myself, will accumulate the highest percentage in making sense of what is currently raging a confusing war inside my body. Sharing this with the few people I will _reluctantly_ call friends here on paper, and never actually out loud, is and will never be an option due to two very straight forward reasons. Firstly, how would talking to an individual that does not and has not participated in the war and could barely be constituted as a spectator of the whole confusing event have anything intelligent to contribute? Secondly, I would rather die before admitting to any living thing, or dead for that matter -as it still would require me to say it out loud- that Kuroo fucking Tetsuro is making me question anything beyond “How can people be this loud and annoying?” Making me feel anything beyond hatred. Kuroo fuckings Tetsuro, with his stupid bedhead, his annoying smug grin, his obnoxiously loud voice, his stupid cheery personality that does not pick up on any negative social clues- or simply decides to ignore it, his complete lack of personal space, his complete disregard of polite common manners, **~~his tanned muscles that threaten to tear the sleaves of those tight black t-shirts that hug him in all the right pla...~~**_

****

****

**note to self:** _Use a pencil for the next entry, not a pen_

Approximately 4 months earlier 

The streets of Tokyo laid covered in a thick veil of morning mist. A mist which painted the surrounding people and buildings in an image of blurry, out of focused shapes. Like the street had not properly woken up for the morning, squinting through groggy tired eyes that had yet to adjust to the new day. The thick mist did however nothing to dampen the permanency of Tokyo's noise image. Noise in the form of excited chatter about the promise of various Saturday plans from every blurry shape. Everything from shared giggles of a promising date that were to take place later that evening to nervous but still thrilling discussions about attending the “getting to know your fellow students” university get together/party that took place every weekend until the start of the semester that next month. 

Cars and busses were busily, though a bit more carefully, shrieking through the tight streets adjacent to the University, taking the unfortunate workers that had to work on a gloomy Saturday morning through the busy streets of Tokyo. Taking the fortunate university students that had stricken luck in this economy to find a part-time job to support their life beyond the university walls, to their respective workplaces. The stores, restaurants and mini-marts which rendered invisible behind the veil all contributed to the overall noise picture with welcome jingles, generic pop music and desperate sellers with megaphones shouting updates of their special offers and sale. It was all a blur of noise from near-invisible sources which created an illusion of a vacuum of time and place isolated and separated from the rest of the world, a secluded little corner of the world in existence all to itself.

To many, the memory of the once lived university life in itself becomes almost disconnected to once own life, like a memory of a previously lived life separate to the person you are now, separate to the world in which you exist now- and this Saturday morning seemed to be a manifestation of the feeling of these memories. 

Tsukishima watched everything silently through shuttered, tired eyes, his fingers desperately pressing the 'volume up' button on his phone to maximize the effect of his white noise-cancelling headphones. The same noise-cancelling headphones that had for years been almost desperately coiled around his neck as a lifebelt. A lifebelt to save Tsukishima from the tiresome umwelt around him- a click of a button, and the whole world faded out. He could not remember the last time he had been this exhausted. It was an ache that went deep, deep into his bones, tightening his ribs and leaving him with a breathless feeling. His arm was heavied down and ached from the weight of the boxes he was holding.

He was on his way home from the post-office after having picked up some of his belongings that had arrived this morning from his parents back in Miyagi. It was a weight that travelled up his arms to his shoulders, rendering them stiff and fatigued. He had lived in Tokyo for nearly 3 weeks now, but blocking out and getting used to the elevated and constant noise of Tokyo which dwarfed anything he ever experienced back in Miyagi seemed so far an impossible task. And Tsukishima was tired. The idea that he had already stayed in this new city and started a new chapter in his life three weeks ago made Tsukishima’s thoughts wander back to how this all came to be.

Back in early December, he had gotten the notice from Tokyo University that he had been accepted into their International Law major starting the following spring semester. International Law is, like Tshkishima himself, logical but complicated with an undisputed framework of reason and self-interest. It was in another word, perfectly suitable for him. A perfectly suitable way to start a new chapter, a new chapter where all hurt pride, half-assed attempts and unnecessary people could be left behind. Thus, a couple of weeks after highschool graduation had passed, Tsukishima had taken the Shinkansen to Tokyo to start looking for an apartment. He had never lived by himself before nor had he ever experienced apartment hunting before, and thus he found it necessary to start searching as early as possible. Giving himself the necessary time to look and find a place that met as many of his criteria as possible. Most importantly, it had to be within a reasonable price and walking distance to the university. 

The Tsukishima’s did not per se have any financial problems, but he resented the idea of being a parasite to his parents. A parasite that drained his parent's earnings and savings to the point that they could no longer afford a comfortable lifestyle. A lifestyle they deserved, the freedom they deserved after taking care of him and Akiteru for over 24 years. The problem, however, was that Tsukishima absolutely refused to live further than walking distance from the University. This was one of the criteria which was unnegotiable. Closer to the university meant higher rent, and with this in mind, Tsukishima gave himself what be believed to be enough time to find a hidden gem in the busy city. Akiteru, which had accompanied him/brought him to Tokyo (and naturally paid for the 2-weeks stay at a near-by guesthouse) would constantly bring up the option of living at the dorms after a week of a fruitless search for a suitable place. However, it was beyond Tsukishima how somebody that knew him as well as Akiteru would ever suggest for him to share living space and room with a stranger, with mostly anybody really. That could only be a recipe for disaster. 

The solution came in the form of Yamaguchi. He had originally not been offered a place in the education department of Tokyo University but was in the end accepted on a waiting-list basis. Some people, for whatever reason, rejects an offer to go to Tokyo University and thus the opportunity goes to people on the waiting list. Tsukishima on his side, could not phantom which reasons some people could have to reject such an offer. He had, after all, worked his ass off for the past three years to achieve such academic excellence that he would not only be accepted into Tokyo University, but the International law department at Tokyo University. He always had had high standards for himself, and this also translated to high standards for how he wanted to live. Actually, such high standards that, if it were not for Yamaguchi, Tsukishima would probably not find what he was looking for.

But relative luck was at Tsukishima side, a small and affordable (if one split the rent in two) studio apartment with two bedrooms opened within a 15 minutes walk from the university on the 13th day of Tsukishima and Akiteru’s stay in Tokyo. Yamaguchi, who was already on cloud 9 due to his unlikely university admission was more than happy to share a studio apartment with Tsukishima and was ready to officially start the new chapter: An university chapter. 

It was not many people that Tsukishima could even bear the thought of living with, but if it was Yamaguchi and the apartment fulfilled his criteria, he believed he could at least bear with it. It may also have the possibility to be fun. Sometimes.

The contract was signed on the 14ths day of Tsukishima and Akiteru’s stay in Tokyo, and one week later Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were once again back on the train to Tokyo. Back to move into their new studio apartment, to Tokyo, to where he currently lived. 

Tsukishima was suddenly drawn from his own wandering thoughts that, with the aid of his own loud music blasting through his headphones, constituted an escape from the outside world. A couple of fingers were tapping harshly on the left side of his headphones, creating a hollow, deep almost heavy dunk that disturbed the flow of the escape filling his ears. He lifted one hand to the left side of his ear and tugged the headphones to the back, shifting his tired honey-coloured eyes to the source of the disturbance, narrowing his eyes. 

“What?” he asked in a low sigh that mirrored the tiredness of his eyes.

The source of the disturbance was a tall girl with delicate curves and muscles of an athlete that was walking in step with him on his left side. Her complexion was hued in shades of rosy colours due to the icy February weather, and her hair was as dark as clear winter nights and fell unruly down her back. Despite the athletic appearance, her chestnut eyes shone of intelligence and deep perceptiveness behind the thin veil of annoyance. 

“Tsukishima, I know we have an agreement that you can escape the conversation for a while with your music, but I would appreciate it if you could, just _sometimes_ , initiate a conversation with me” the girl started with a particular emphasis on the word ‘sometimes’, as to show that she, in fact, was not expecting much. 

“ You have been wearing the headphones since we left your apartment an hour ago, and if I didn’t force you, you would just continue to shut me out the whole time we are together” she finished while adjusting the heavy boxes carried in her arms. Contrary to the possible outside listener's belief, it was no accusation in her voice. It was merely tinted with the slightest hint of annoyance over what was most of all patience and consideration. It was this understanding of who Tsukishima was and what he needed that made him start dating this girl in the first place. What made him stumble into the realm of romance- which usually would be of very little interest to the tall boy, and would constantly stretch his boundaries of comfort and stability.

\-------- 

He had met Yui at the start of his third year in high school after he had been placed into the most advanced senior class for students of particular academic excellency. No.... met was not actually the right word. When he had _noticed her existence_ after 2 years of attending the same school in the same year, walked the same hallways and eating lunch at the same cafeteria.

She had stood out from the rest of the class by showcasing excellent social abilities that far outshone Tsukishima’s own (though that cannot be categorized as a particularly impressive characteristic in itself). She was upfront and upspoken about all her passions and opinions, and worked hard to both juggle her academic aspiration for Tokyo University and her extracurricular activities in the basketball club. When met with snarky, borderline rude comments from Tsukishima, she would simply look at him with dark eyes shining of curiosity. Like she was looking at a particularly hard puzzle that she was hell-bent on cracking. And even though it would be a bit of a stretch to say that she had cracked him, she had been able to penetrate the outer layers of what was Tsukishima with critical questions, snarky back comments and a comfortable presence. They had shared goals and interests, been equally busy with juggling all their responsibilities within and outside school, and would slowly, but steadily grow into something that could maybe, possibly be categorized as friends. Still far from sharing anything too personal, but sharing determination and stubbornness. In the end, Tsukishima took for granted that she was a constant, though not a close, part of his life. 

Walking home together after particularly hard club activities in October, Tsukishima suddenly noticed her lack of presence next to him. A presence that was there only moments ago. Turning around, he saw her rooted to the ground. Her wild hair was blowing, dancing in time with the soft autumn wind, and her dark eyes were shining with determination and playfulness. Before Tsukishima could open his mouth to ask why she had stopped, she had calmly said with the most nonchalant tone “Let’s date!”

A confusing short sentence for a boy like Tsukishima. A sentence in which held meaning in a particular aspect of human interaction that he had never explored or dared approach. He had never thought of Yui in a particular romantic light- but he also had never turned on the romantic light switch in his brain. Leaving that part to decay in a furthest-left corner. But having this new unfamiliar door of human interaction open in such a violent and unapologetic way forced Tsukishima to explore, to approach, to think. Maybe not ready to turn on the switch, but perhaps light a candle.

She was pretty indeed, smart, athletic, and had an almost irritating understanding of his boundaries and personality. And if Tsukishima was totally honest with himself, there was a part of him, deep-down that held some-kind-of fond feelings towards her. The open door left a curiosity in Tsukishima, curious as to how far this peculiar friendship could take them. Curious how opening himself up to romance would affect him and how it would change him. He found her attractive and reasonable interesting to talk to (and to insult), though would never opt to admit this out loud. 

“Hn” had been his first response. Never one to give a romantic response, nor even remotely close to a decent one. “What an interesting way to confess- how bold of you Yui” he snickered, never one to miss a perfect opportunity for a sassy comeback. Even when confronted with confusing feelings. At the same time, he gave her a slow sarcastic clap for her efforts with a mocking smile painting his lips. 

Tsukishima was no idiot, he knew he was being his fantastically rude self. Knew that this performance would shatter most people, and most likely Yui too. Though he could, to himself, admit some newly discovered interest in the girl, she had far from tore down enough walls to get anything remotely sincere as a response. However, she only shrugged as a response to his sass. Shrugged her wide shoulders as to say “Go hard or go home”. And it was maybe in that moment when his fondness for the girl grew. At that moment, when she was facing his extremely guarded and rude self in an extremely vulnerable situation and shrugged, his feelings for the girl grew. She only shrugged, unfaced by his walls, unaffected by his rudeness, unworried by his insincerity. Though he could not exactly say he was in love with the girl- he was interested.

But did that mean he should accept her feelings? Her feelings that were probably so far from a small burning candle, because her eyes showed the sincerity of a blinding hospital light. Albeit a romantic one. But maybe that was also the reason he should. Opting for the safest, least vulnerable way to answer her, 

“Do I even have a say in this? It was not even a question dumbass” though lacking the usual biting snark of his mean comments.

“No-oh” she sing-song playfully, waving her index finger back and forth in a teasing manner. 

Their eyes were locked in a searching manner, looking for answers in each other’s gazes and facial expression. Locked in a dual unwillingness to give up their stance, show weakness. Tsukishima was the first to break the eye-contact. He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance and turned around to leave the matter unresolved. To continue the walk to his house. After a couple of steps, however, an arm coiled around his upper arm and she fell in step with him all the way to the normal location of their partition. Nothing more was said. Nothing more was unsaid. He had a girlfriend now. He knew that, and she knew that.

\--------

“You are completely competent in holding a whole conversation with me - without me actually participating or listening in on it” he sniggered back at her. 

His responses had not eased up or softened since the day of confession. He still guarded his feelings, still answered with sarcastic or snarky comments, and still gave way to little of himself. He was still Tsukishima. He was still Tsukishima because both he and Yui knew that his words rarely held any actual malice behind them when directed towards her. It was his way of communicating, and that was part of what she liked about him. That is not to say she never had any qualms about it, proven as she just complained about his participation level in the conversation, but for the most part, it was working. 

“Oh I’m sorry mister I have a stick up my butt, sorry for believing that a conversation is the sharing of information between two or more people” Yui playfully bit back. 

She gently cocked her head back to look fondly at the tall boy next to her, exuberant eyes boring holes through Tsukishimas glasses. It was such a familiar situation. A familiar situation of jabbing shit back and forth until Yui would laugh out loud at the silliness of it all. Until Tsukishima would snap his mouth shut tightly together as if eating a particularly sour lemon so as not to lead by her example. And it was exactly this familiarity that relaxed Tsukishima's stiff and tired shoulders from lifting heavy boxes under stress. Relaxed his brain from all battling noises around him from mist hidden sources. 

“You are forgiven” was jabbed back with the faintest smile to be detected in his tone. Tsukishima had this mysterious talent of crumbling any conversation in which criticize himself or his behaviour, picking up and re-arrange the crumbles into a conversation where he held dominance. Where he felt comfortable. Nevertheless, as he expected, Yui snorted out loud of the almost rude way Tsukishima would jab back and turn the whole conversation around. He almost smiled back.

They finally reached the studio apartment in which he shared with Yamaguchi. They entered the apartment while carrying the heavy boxes through the living room and into his room to let their arms rest after a good 20 minutes of heavy lifting. As she put down the boxes she was carrying, she curiously peered out of the open bedroom door,

she asked, “Is Yamaguchi home from Yachi’s place yet?” 

Yamaguchi and Yachi had started dating during their second year of high school. Yamaguchi’s initial rejection to Tokyo University, however, had created a dark gloomy cloud of uncertainty and possible break up due to the difficult nature of long-distance relationships. The dark cloud hung heavily over Yamaguchi during the weeks between the initial rejection and the admission, turning into heavy rainclouds as Yamaguchi would silently cry while forcing Tsukishima to watch tragic romance movies with him in the weekends. Tsukishima felt very helpless during those weeks. He was not very good with consoling people, let alone making them feel better. Actually, he was quite good at the exact opposite - making people feel bad and sour.

However, Yamaguchi was ...important to him and he wanted to say something to make his only real friend feel better. But rendered incapable of doing much more than pat him awkwardly and stiffly on the head and mechanically mutter “There there” or “It will work out”. The doom cloud of future heartbreak did, however, evaporate from one day to another as he got accepted into Tokyo University as well. Questioning the existence of the cloud at all, if not for the memory of the pining amount of romance movies Tsukishima had sat through. Tsukishima was happy for his friend, happy for his happiness - but would express this happiness with a simple,

“I told you it will work out stupid”. Though Tsukishima knew perfectly well that he only said so because people in these tragic romance movies tended to console people in this way. He had not really believed it would work out, nor understood the feelings his friend carried towards the girl. But Yamaguchi, like Yui, knew he at least cared when offering less than heartfelt responses. Knew what he meant when he only hummed in response, rolled his eyes or simply ignored to answer. 

“No” he simply answered to Yui's earlier question, while swinging his left arm in circles, right hand stabilizing the shoulder to get rid of the tension in his stiff shoulders. 

She turned towards him with her hands crossed over each other and a raised eyebrow as to say “Elaborate. Don’t make me drag out information from you”. 

“Yachi’s mother is coming to Tokyo to see how Yachi is settling in Tokyo and have dinner with both of them. He will probably be back before midnight sometime” he sighed, shifting his focus over to the right arm- flinging the arm into his face and knocking his glasses askew in the process.

A simple funny act, that would seem no big of a deal to most people. But an act which tore at the tall boy that cared too much about a perfect outer appearance, a boy with too much pride. He quickly adjusted his glasses and shifted his gaze towards the ground, wishing beyond anything that Yui did not see his embarrassing act. Knowing for a fact that she did see it. After all, her gaze was only seconds ago pinning his own down for more information about Yamaguchi. With a voice that obviously was trying to hold down a burst of abrupt laughter, she choked,

“I see”.

Tsukishima shot his head up and sent her a piercing death glare, daring her to laugh. She took a break to adjust her voice, “That is nice. I was so worried about them during last semester. Now it’s like nothing ever happened”. 

Tsukishima only nodded, trying to push down the lump of hurt pride away. Trying to convince himself that it was no big deal to simply knock one's glasses askew. People do that all the time. He knew that it was no big deal, but just had problems convincing his annoying pride that it was not. His pride that had been shattered to smithereens after Akitru’s betrayal all those years ago, and had been slowly rebuilt threefolds as a result. Though Tsukishima was past the betrayal of his brother and closer to him than ever, some things could simply not magically mend itself. He was not unable to turn back time and stop the progressing of an unhealthily large pride. Because that unhealthily large pride was needed at that time to move forward.

“Aaaaanyways, you owe me a coffee at Coffee Bean for my help” she winked, clearly trying to ease the heavy blanket of self-hate that weighted the room down. 

“So if you have nothing more you need to do right now, let’s stroll down there now, and let me tell you about the juicy gossip I’ve acquired from my friends since we last met”. 

“We met 4 day’s ago” Tsukishima deadpanned, successfully distracted by a new topic. “ I don’t know which sitcom your friends think they live in - but last time I checked, I can care less what they are up to”. 

“ Well, I’m gonna tell you anyway, because I need to vent!” she said with a bright excitement that could light up the darkest of tunnels, and took hold of Tsukishimas slender, but firm wrist and started to drag the sighing boy with her and out of his apartment. 

Coffee Bean was a small cafe, darkly lit by worn ceiling lights that emitted a warm, dark orange light. A light that rendered all it’s occupants to squint to see what was right in front of them. It was decorated in old, out of fashion furniture, and the wall was tapered with dark brown wallpaper made to, not so successfully in Tsukishima’s opinion, imitate dark oak walls. From the ceiling, and tucked into every corner of the shop was small, plastic spruce treas not so elegantly placed in different IKEA pots in various colours. The fake status of the treas was only Tsukishima’s guess, as spruce trees were only native to certain parts of Europe, and he doubted, based on the shabbiness of everything else, that Coffee Bean had taken the effort to import large amounts of baby trees from Europe. He could, of course, take a closer look to confirm or disconfirm his suspicions, however, he preferred to not put himself into a position in which he could be proven wrong. Instead of music, the cafe played a 2-hour loop of various nature sounds. The coffee shop was clearly attempting to re-create a homey European style cabin experience but lacking the knowledge and the creative eye to make it believable.

However, they did serve some of the most amazing beverages Tsukishima had ever tasted in his entire life. And the smell of the delicious coffee and tea, which hugged you like a warm blanket when sitting down in the retro furniture, more than made up for their poor taste in interior decoration. 

He ordered a warm Caramel Macchiato for Yui and a home-made strawberry tea with extra sugar to himself. Mind you, the last part was muttered almost inaudibly for even the barista himself. With a reeking hot beverage in each hand, he sat down in front of Yui in a tattered leather chair so deep he wondered how he ever would be able to stand up again. He placed each cup on the low table in front of them and leaned more back in the deep chair, dooming himself both to making standing up even more difficult for himself and what would undeniably be a long update of unimportant nonsense that Yui’s friends had been able to create in the last four days. Great, Tsukishima thought sarcastically. 

Tsukishima had not been wrong. He had now been sitting for the last 45 minutes with a slowly cooling strawberry tea clutched between his hands and listened to what he would label ‘101 excruciating boring and unnecessary drama, and overreactions to said drama by Yui’s friends edition 234’. During these 45 minutes, he had uttered as much as three words and 11 confirming grunts to keep his girlfriend moderately happy. Though he had stopped to really listen after 20 minutes, when Yui decided to share, in public mind you, a bit too much detailed description of how her best friend had tried anal for the first time yesterday, and that somehow a third friend was offended she did not tell her first. At that time, he became extremely thankful for one other aspect of the cafe, the considerable distance between each retro table and its adjacent chairs.

However, despite Yui’s need to share her gossip, Tsukishima could not phantom how she thought it was necessary to share in such detail with him. First of all, he was not even remotely interested in knowing how it feels like to be on the receiving end of anal. And not really on the giving side either. Secondly, he would never understand girls no matter how hard Yui tried to explain. Tsukishima found himself thinking that he really looked forward to university start so he could participate in some intelligent conversation. The vacation was clearly doing little to stimulate Yui’s more intelligent sides. 

In the middle of a ‘Tsukishima has absolutely no idea anymore’ story shared with much-animated hands and expressions from Yui’s side, she suddenly halted in her movements and her eyes of dark chestnut became blurred by clouds of confusion and disbelief. She was staring in the direction behind Tsukishima’s shoulder, and she raised herself quickly from the chair with clumsy haste. She then spoke out loud in a voice barely below a shout,

“Ayako? Is that you?”. 

“Yui is that YOU?” an unknown voice of a girl shrieked excitedly behind him, and before he had the time to try and turn around in this too comfortable fucking deep chair, Yui had sprinted past him and out of sight. 

Tsukishima considered not bothering to turn around and acknowledge the girl at all. After all, he had already been doomed to a difficult fight with the chair 45 minutes ago and was not sure if he was ready yet to take that battle. Also, Yui greeting one of her friends in a more than normal decibel level excitement was hardly something new, and not something he thought he needed to acknowledge each time.

"What has it been? 6 years?" he heard the supposed Ayako ask Yui, strong with emotions on each syllable. And a myriad of emotional, excited, disbelieving and confused questions and answers were shot back and forth in increasing speed and volume. "I did not recognize you before you stood up, the lighting is so bad in here", it was Yui that spoke this time. 

Tsukishima felt himself slide further and further down the comfortable chair, and wished to melt down into a puddle in the material and never return to a solid form. To only continue to exist in liquid form, and escape the inevitable introduction to this new (though an apparently old friend of Yui) person in his life. Tsukishima was never good with first introductions, nor with the following small talk that usually finds place after the introduction. Hell, he was not even good at communicating with his own best friend or girlfriend. He knew that his go-to communication method of 'Be rude and cold' seldomly gave him any golden stars in his imaginative social skill book. It would also with certainty, and not for the first time, make people question the social butterfly that was Yui's taste in boyfriends.

Not that he really cared what people thought of him, he never had.... but somewhere deep down in him stung from seeing the carefully hidden hurt in her eyes as he, yet again, was rude to the shocked audience that was her friends. He took a deep breath down his uneasy stomach and fought to push aside all the uncomfortable feelings to a place in his body that could consume him at a later time. He started his lazy fight with the chair, stood up and turned around to make his introduction. In his haste to get it over and done with, Tsukishima pushed the chair quickly and harshly backwards, and the friction between the floor and chair legs created an ear-piercing shriek. An ear-piercing shriek which acted as a magnet for all the eyes that currently inhabited in the small cafe. Such attention would normally make Tsukishima highly uncomfortable, make him squirm on the inside. However, the wall of piercing eyes was drowned out, rendered inconsequential, non-existent, by the pair of rich chocolate eyes next to Yui and Ayako that found his own.

A pair of familiar rich chocolate eyes belonging to a guy that made him a million times more uncomfortable than any number of anonymous eyes could. They made a million emotions well inside his already uneasy stomach, and he felt nauseous. Nauseous from the feelings of hurt pride- hurt pride from being told he sucked, from being showed how much he sucked, from being confronted with his inner demons, from being forced to accept a helping hand. Feelings of strong dislike, a dislike rooted in his hurt pride. Feelings of humiliation. Feelings of confusing nostalgia. Feelings of his closed chapter creating cracks in the barriers of his new chapter, pouring liquid of memories and insecurities through the shattered barrier. He felt the need to run and hide from his closed chapter, from deeply suppressed shame and hatred that was quickly boiling to the surface. It hurt, it burned. He hated the guy in front of him, hated who he had been in front of this guy. Suddenly the thick mist of this February morning that had captured the city in a time-capsule like feeling, seemed like an eerie warning, a foreshadowing of this moment. A moment completely separate of the idea of his new start, a moment that took place in the present, but felt separate from both the present and the past. A mix of two realities held captured together by the dark orange lights surrounding them in the small cafe.

"Tsukki?" Kuroo Tetsuro asked, and Tsukishima could see the flickering of a dozen hard to pin-point emotions in the eyes of the volleyball player when recognition hit him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do I write here? Hi?


	2. Heat of the Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo has issues, and not only with Tsukishma

**Heat of the Moment**

**Kuroo.**

Saturday mornings were never meant to actually be experienced, only to be a fleeting existence of time which passes while the world lies tucked in the deepest of dreamlands. Dreams of what the relevant times of Saturdays has to bring, all the possibilities of events that could occur. That is at least how Kuroo Tetsuro saw the value of Saturday mornings, the purpose of this godforsaken hour of the day in which he was currently awake at. He laid tucked in his entirety in the warm Winter duvet, tugging the pillow harshly down the back of his head and buried his face down in the mattress. Shielding his eyes from the feeble light which penetrated through the thick veil of mist and between the gaps of the blinds. Encasing the room in an eerie, almost mystical, curtain. Shielding his ears from the more than a little annoying piercing sound of what Bokuto would probably label his best performance of the classic ‘Heat of the moment’ by Asia in the shower. Kuroo should've known, after all, he and Bokuto had binged watched the whole of Supernatural season 3 the previous day, and the song had been stuck as an unwanted earworm for the rest of the evening. This gave, however, not Bokuto the right, in Kuroo’s opinion, to wake him up 15 minutes before he had to. Especially not on a gloomy Saturday as this one. One more thing to add on the rather short list of house rules which the both of them had created in their first week of living together and stuck on the fridge nearly 2 years ago. 

He had agreed to meet Ayako at Coffee Bean around 9:30, all in order to calm her down and cheer her on for her first big day as a part-time sales assistant at the local sport’s store ‘T Sports’. Her shift started at 11 am, and she had texted him about her nerves throughout the whole Supernatural marathon, dividing his rather short attention span. Agreeing to meet her on a Saturday morning had more to do with calming her rage for being left on read several times during the marathon, and less about Kuroo actually thinking that starting a new part-time job was such a big deal. After all, it was only a part-time job, not her future employment. His thoughts may seem harsh to many, but Kuroo had stopped considering himself a quality boyfriend after getting together with Ayako. Valuing his bachelor life, but not really bachelor life, as a young University student living the best years of his life with his best friend and bro Bokuto. 

When he started dating Ayako in his second year of University, it was more about claiming the status of the guy who caught the prettiest and most popular freshman at their school, than it was about love and genuine feelings for the girl. But also... maybe a little bit about extinguishing the fire of any possible suspicions, any guesses as to why he never brought home any of the girls he was making out with at the various university parties. Any speculations about, what he liked to call, his ...little problem. His little problem that had very little to do with the size of his package, but … maybe something even more embarrassing. Something only Bokuto knew. Something Ayako had come to know, but handled the secret like a champion. Trusting her to keep it to herself, trusting her to be patient and wait for him to overcome what he considered the most embarrassing issue a guy his age could have. And for that alone, he owed her the sacrifice of his Saturday morning. But also for his own selfish reasons, he needed to calm her rage.

The bed, however, felt like a harm hug reluctant to set him free. Shielding him from the cold air of a winter morning. A winter morning as savage as a piercing sting, able to puncture his skin and send chills deep into his bones. His bed was taunting him, demanding him to stay put, stay where he was. Hibernate for the Winter, and stick his head out from the nest he had created when Spring had come and melted the icy weather to thaw. Damn the consequences. He was a grown-up with both the right and the opportunity to freely decide his sleeping schedule, to freely decide when it is socially acceptable to wake up on a Saturday. Maybe, just maybe, if Bokuto’s sorry excuse for a singing voice was not bawling in the background of his ‘I feel sorry for myself’ inner monologue, he would have let sleep take him back to a state of wonderful nothingness. Let it tempt him back to sleep with the promise of pure, thoughtless bliss in the same way a siren would lure unsuspecting sailors to dangerous waters. Sleep right now being as risky as dangerous waters. 

In the three-four minutes in which this internal struggle had taken place, Bokuto had clicked repeat on his inner Spotify playlist and returned to the same section of the song in which Kuroo left him off for his thoughts. Alternatively, he only knew that part of the song and was simply repeating the chorus over and over to his imaginative fans in his imaginative bathroom audience. 

“For the love of God, and everything that is holy, can you please shut the fuck up?” he shouted through the muffling sound of his face being planted deep into his mattress.

“Sorry, what was that? Can’t hear you through my amazing talent, and adoring fans” came the loud response back jeeringly. 

“Amazing talent my ass” he mumbled while sticking a disastrous bedhead out from the protective pillow and disentangling himself from the safety of his bed. 

Planting both feet on the icy cold floor, he raised himself out of bed with an odd mix of a large yawn and a tired grunt. Shuffling stooped to the end of his bed, he slipped on a warm fuzzy pair of superman printed slippers in colours of red and blue, and tucked the living room blanket in which he brought to bed last night tightly around him as a safety precaution against the windborne debris. From there on, making his way through his bedroom door, through the portal that separates the productiveness of early mornings and the lazy sleep in days, and into the living room. 

15 minutes later, Kuroo found himself accompanied in the kitchen while making breakfast pancakes by a newly showered Bokuto.

“Oh man, save some for me” he exclaimed excitedly, hovering over Kuroo’s shoulder to inspect and take in the smell of the simmering pancakes. The strong smell of the unlabelled shower gel Kuroo bought the previous week because it had said ‘FOR MEN’ with large capital letters hit him in the face as Bokuto leaned closer. 

“You know I always do bro” he snickered “Can’t let my best bro starve, nor can I keep the amazingness that is my cooking all to myself. What a sad world that would be”

“You are too kindhearted, what indeed would the world do without you?”

“Starve,” Kuroo said dramatically, with one hand placed back-side against his forehead for added dramatic effect. Winking one eye suggestively towards Bokuto in a kidding manner.

As the plates, cutlery and cups were placed on the minuscule dining table, and the pancakes served, they both started to eat.

“Why did you bother to shower in the first place? You're just gonna sweat from coaching those kids” Kuroo asked as they both struggled to cut the pancakes due to the slippery nature of the syrup. Slipping out of reach every time they were going for the kill, taunting their knife and fork skills. 

Bokuto had started assistant coaching for the local middle school’s volleyball team in the middle of their freshman year of university. He had got accepted into Tokyo University through a volleyball scholarship and was currently the school’s biggest hope in changing the University’s reputation from one of simply academic excellence to excellence on all playing fields- in his case, specifically when it came to sports. This important role he had been granted by the school had also landed him a lot of opportunities for volleyball related part-time jobs, as his talents were highly sought after. And though a little jealousy was secretly present deep inside Kuroo, jealousy of how easy it all came for Bokuto, he still wished all the good opportunities for his friend. It wasn't as Kuroo was the only one that was practising, he knew that Bokuto practised equally as hard as himself - but no amount of practice could make up for the staggering amount of natural talent Bokuto possessed. However, also, no amount of natural talent could change the eternal bromanship they had formed on the court during their high school days, for so as to seep into every aspect of their off-court life. 

“Can’t start the day without a shower. Doesn't feel like a new day if you get me man” Bokuto explained easily, as the fact were as obvious as the sun always rises in the east and sets in the west. The day does not start without a shower, and the day does not start without the sun peeking up from the horizon to the east.

“Whatever floats your boat man, just make sure you won’t get late”

“Ye ye, don't worry. I’ll be leaving in 5. You'll be meeting Ayako in 50 right? 

”Yeah.....unfortunately” Kuroo sighed

The peaceful silence following Kuroo's last statement did however not last for long, only for Kuroo to finally win another battle against the slippery syrup and stuff himself with a couple beat up pieces of breakfast pancake. The pancakes that had left the pan round in form and succulent had transformed into mushy pieces on the plate from excessive fork stabbing. In the case of the Syrup, it had magically transferred to every touchable surface on the table and between their fingers, sticking them together as glue despite the diligent cutlery usage. 

“You should really treat your girlfriend better. She does not judge your little problem, and she is hot and kind. What more do you want?” Bokuto asked in a tone considered serious when coming from the chippy guy.

“To sleep until at least 2 when there is no practice on Saturdays” Kuroo answered simply with a large yawn, rubbing his left arm over his eyes to force some sleep out of them. “And, we do not mention my little problem,” he added. 

Ignoring Kuroo’s last comment, he said “Woooow, she is really not high on that priority list of yours” 

Kuroo only shrugged and went back to battling his plate of pancakes and syrup. Conveying more nonchalance than any response could ever convey. He knew he was an asshole, no number of excuses as to why he behaved the way he did could excuse away his bad behaviour. He wished to become a better boyfriend to the girl who kept his secrets, treated him way better than he deserved, liked him way more than he deserved. But the problem was that all her good efforts and kindness only constituted a reminder of what a bad person he was, and as a result, only irritated him. It irritated him that she always forgave him when he cancelled on her, always forgave him when he did not text her back, always showered him with the love he did not deserve. She always came back, no matter what, and that made it just so much easier for Kuroo to take advantage of her kindness and become just an even worse boyfriend. He had kept telling himself that, if he kept dating such a wonderful girl as Ayako, he would start catching feelings, he would fall in love eventually. His romantic lightswitch could finally be turned on. How could it not? And that was his constant justification for continuing dating her. And if he wanted that reality to see the light of day, he needed to meet and reassure her today. Make sure that she won’t finally get enough of him before he has the opportunity to reciprocate her feelings. 

“Maaan, I feel like I need to shower again,” said Bokuto glumly, looking down at his sticky fingers in bewilderment after finishing his plate of pancakes and placing it in the sink. 

“Bro! You are not the only one with plans, don’t you dare hog the shower” 

Bokuto checked the time on his phone, an image of slight panic filling his golden eyes as he realized the time.

“You are in luck! No time, gotta fly” he sing songed as he quickly washed his hands, flung his gym bag over his left shoulder and hurried out of the apartment.

Despite having only 50 minutes until he was supposed to meet Ayako at Coffee Bean, he took his sweet time cleaning the table and doing the dishes. Dreaming himself away from the kitchen, and onto the court. Wishing to feel the blood-rush that was accompanied by the electrifying air of competitiveness. It was still a bit over three weeks before the next semester started in the beginning of March, and he could feel every bone in his body vibrate from both unused energy and excitement to start practising again. Off-seasons were not in agreement with his body. And though he had not entered the University on a sports scholarship, nor did he study physical education, he still had a place on the volleyball team. Still had a place where he would call home. While dreaming himself away, he scrubbed the dishes in slow clockwise motion, humming under his breath ‘Heeeeat of the moment’. Bobbing his head to the melody before he realized his actions, and cursed both Bokuto and Supernatural under his breath. He refused to be caught singing for the rest of the day in fear of it affecting his cool-guy image, so he simply had to escape this earworm.

Placing the last of the dishes in the drying rack, he picked up the blanket from the kitchen chair and dropped it not-so-neatly on the couch. He then went to the bathroom and started getting ready for the way too early Saturday morning. Stepping into the shower after carefully measuring the temperature with his fingers felt amazing. The stream of hot, wet water engulfed him, transporting him away from the February cold and into a reality where only blissful heat existed. While fighting the urge to sing, he properly washed his hair and body with the same “FOR MEN” unbranded shower gel that could be functionally used for everything, probably even for the car, if he had one. He lingered a few (10) more minutes under the hot stream of wonderful non-existence, before entering into the steamy room. He then began to defog the mirror, only bothering to barely wipe what was strictly necessary to see, and dried his hair in monotone repetitive motions. When his hair was considerably dry enough, he proceeded to spend a good 10-15 minutes gelling his hair into a controlled ‘I just woke up like this’ mess, a bedhead reeking like ‘I have sex on a regular basis’. Looking that good but effortless took a surprising amount of effort. When he had spent another five minutes wiggling himself into a pair of dark-washed skin-tight jeans and a snuggly fit black t-shirt, the time was already 9:30. He hurriedly put on his best winter boots, a navy knee-long coat and a bright red knitted scarf before hurrying out in the freezing weather.

The streets of Tokyo laid covered in a thick veil of morning mist, thick enough to disorient Kuroo for a minute as to which direction was the correct one to Coffee Bean. Before pursuing in the direction he believed was indeed the way to the cafe, he sent a short message to Ayako:

 **(09:35):** Sorry, I was held up this morning. I’ll be there shortly 

**Ayako (09:36):** Don’t worry, I will just order first and wait for you by our regular table

 **(09:36):** *Thumbs up*

The cafe was small, darkly lit by worn ceiling lights that emitted a warm, dark orange light. Walking into the cafe was always close to surreal for Kuroo, it transported him into these European cabins you see in foreign movies. How the people in charge of decorating the place was able to make it look so authentic was beyond Kuroo, and he had to give them a lot of kudos. They had even gotten hold of some super legit European trees to help bring the atmosphere together. The furniture in the place, in addition to being super cool, was so comfortable that he once spent an entire afternoon just sliding further and further down the chairs until he nearly fell asleep from the peaceful nature sounds of the place. They did not serve the best coffee out there, but the atmosphere of the place more than made up for what they lacked in barista skills. 

He found Ayako sitting at their regular table with one cup of vanilla latte in front of her on the table and a reeking hot cup of americano in front of his empty seating. Walking past another couple sitting behind them, he approached her and said lamely,

“You ordered for me as well.” His conscience stung a little 

“Yeah well, I know what you like”

He sat down opposite of Ayako while uncoiling the thick scarf from his neck and hung his dark coat over the back of the chair. He picked up the reeking beverage and warmed his cold fingers on the warm paper cup. It smelled lightly caramelized and nutty, warm and full, like a drop of liquid salvation in contrast to the outside world which lacked any smell beyond simply coldness. 

“You are not angry?” He carefully asked while studying her features, looking for the blaring heat of anger behind her pretty features. She was an extremely pretty girl, there was no question about it. Her face was the home of piercing eyes of ebony and the plumpest lips Kuroo had ever seen, kissing them felt like a meeting with the puffiest of clouds, or a soft marshmallow. (Kuroo had never claimed to be the most poetic of people). Though it sent no sparks of beautiful bliss, they were undeniably sweet. Her hair was cut short in an elegant, bleached caramel blonde bob that framed her petite face beautifully. She was considerably tall for a Japanese girl, maybe 176, but it gave her the most elegant legs that went on for days. She was wearing a cute yellow dress, supported by a pair of thick woollen stockings to protect her from the outside weather. 

“I was at first,” she said quietly. “I felt that your movie marathon with Bokuto, in which you have quite often I have to point out, wa- “

“Supernatural is a series, not a collection of movies” he interrupted. 

“You are missing the point Kuroo,” she huffed but continued “ I felt that it was more important for you than my first day at my first ever part-time job when you left me on read, and took 20-30 minutes between your answers. But you are here now, and that is the most important”

There it was again, the kindness which knew no boundaries. The kindness which both irritated Kuroo to no end, but also made him feel like the worst person on the planet. Kuroo usually considered himself as a relatively kind and cheery person, but it was like this girl brought out the absolute worst parts hidden deep within Kuroo. Rendering his heart as black as night, her kindness letting his deep-rooted selfishness have a free playing field. He took a large sip of his americano, sliding comfortably down his usual chair, and let some well-deserved guilt consume him. He had absolutely no reason to be irritated at the precious human being before him. Yet, it seemed like it was also impossible not to.

“You are too kind for your own good” he mumbled behind the tip of his cup, half irritated and half guilty.

“I know” she smiled, sending a soft look in Kuroo’s direction which could probably melt all the ice on the North Pole if given the chance. She grazed her right bangs behind her ear with long, slender fingers, looking like a warm summer breeze on a cold Winter night. “But nothing good comes from bearing grudges” 

“I’m sorry Ayako,” he apologized. Taking a deep breath, he turned on his normal stupidly bright smile and winked cooly at her “I’ll make it up to you” 

They fell into a comfortable conversation about Ayako’s first day at the new job. Kuroo was making sure to give her a lot of encouragement, telling her that she will do great and they were lucky to have such a great girl working for them. It seemed to help, her confidence seemed to pick up as the conversation went along. They were in the middle of discussing what Ayako should do if she met a specifically rude customer on her first day when they were interrupted… or interrupted may not be the best word, their _attention was drawn to_ something else. A very interesting topic of conversation was going on on the table behind him.

“Who the hell is talking about such things in a cafe?” he asked incredulously 

Ayako giggled, “I don’t know, it’s too dark to see them properly,” she said while squinting towards the table behind him. “It’s actually kinda cute how the guy just obediently sits and listens to her rambling… or I think it is a guy at least” 

“Cute? You wanna discuss….” Kuroo leaned forward to whisper the rest, “butt sex?” wrinkling his nose. 

“You are not exactly the best judge of appropriate public topics Mr. talking about penis size in class”

“That was once” Kuroo whined

“Ok Mr. ‘how wet was her pussy?’ in the canteen”

“You are a cruel human being,” Kuroo said while scowling playfully at her.

“Thought you just said that I’m too kind for my own good?” she teased back

“Ok, you’ve won. I’m scum of this earth” 

They both started to laugh loudly at their own bickering, at the ridiculousness of the conversation behind them. It was comfortable, and in such moments Kuroo believed that he could actually have a chance of falling in love with the girl in front of him. When the conversation between them fell so easily when she seemed more like a human being rather than a saint-like creature that could do nothing wrong beside giving life to the dirtiest of corners in those around her. Or maybe it was just Kuroo. The girl behind them kept up a one-sided monologue about everything from A-Z in the realm of gossip and it was almost comical that, despite the considerable distance between the two tables, they could hear by the disinterested grunts coming from the male presence that he had no idea what the girl was talking about.

“There is something familiar with her voice though, I’m wondering if she went to one of my classes,” Ayako said silently, her head tilted just the slightest upwards with a puzzled look on her face. 

“OMG, if she does. Can you PLEASE tell me? It would be the best thing ever to just casually walk by and say something like ‘Update me about your progress of making your boyfriend try anal with you will you? That’s why you shared that story, wasn't it?’ ..or or just mysteriously say ‘The acoustics at Coffee Bean is more carrying than you may think’, and she would just be mortified because she would not know exactly what I was talking about. But she would know it was something bad, ” Kuroo’s eyes were practically shining while making his evil plans of embarrassment.

“Yeah, ” she snorted “You are currently illustrating my point of you being no better.” 

Looking down at her phone, she said “Hmm, I think I should leave now. I still have more than enough time, but I think it’s better to be a bit early”

Kuroo nodded in agreement, and they both rose up from the chairs to put on their outerwear. Kuroo a bit more reluctantly due to the comfortable nature of the chair. As they stood up and their face was lit up by the warm coloured ceiling lamp, he heard a shriek from the girl behind him,

“Ayako? Is that you?”

Before Kuroo had the opportunity to turn around, Ayako’s eyes had shut up to comical proportions as the girl behind him had, he guessed based on the sound, risen up from her chair as well so the ceiling lights were rendering her facial details visible. 

“Yui is that YOU?” his girlfriend exclaimed back. Suddenly there was a blur of dark unruly hair in his side vision that proceeded to hug Ayako tightly. "What has it been? 6 years?" Ayako asked the supposed Yui, strong with emotions on each syllable. Kuroo then put this Yui girl into his mental category ‘one of Ayako’s friends’, tucked far back in the darkest part of his memory storage. And a myriad of emotional, excited, disbelieving and confused questions and answers were shot back and forth in increasing speed and volume.

"I did not recognize you before you stood up, the lighting is so bad in here", this Yui said.

Kuroo was just about to introduce himself to Ayako’s friend when a loud air-piercing screeching noise made him turn around in reflex. Made him turn around and face the source of that godforsaken sound. However, what met him then was something he would never in a million years have had expected. Because never in a million years would he have expected those eyes of liquid sunshine and honey, which turned to hard amber upon recognition, to stand before him again. Why he never expected to see the guy again, Kuroo could not answer, but he simply felt like a part of the past. A past so unconnected to his present, despite volleyball being a constant factor. 

If the other guy was surprised to see him, his eyes were not betraying anything. No flicker of confused emotions, no surprise, only the solidification of liquid gold to ..disgust? hatred? Kuroo was not sure. The only thing he knew for sure was that his own eyes were betraying far more emotions than he would've liked. Never one for subtlety. 

Surprise, why was he here? Confusion, what was he doing here? Nostalgia, how long has it been since they played on that court together? against each other? 

But maybe most of all, dislike. Despite his outer appearance of an obnoxious and loud captain that made sure everybody was included and had the opportunity to grow and maximize their potential… he could never really get himself to like the tall boy. His complete disrespect for the sport made his blood boil to dangerous levels. He had all the natural talent in the world but disrespected the sport and his teammates by not trying. By taking the spot from somebody on the sidelines, somebody that was burning with passion to stand on that very court he occupied. Call Kuroo a hypocrite for not liking the guy, after all, his childhood friend Kenma was basically the same way. But… they needed him as he was, calm and calculating, objective. Karasuno needed a middle blocker that blocked with passion. It did not help that the blonde was a rude little shit in addition.

He carefully considered his next move. Should he awkwardly say ‘hi’? ‘Long time no see’? Ignore the guy? The options were plenty. But on the other hand, he had a cool senpai reputation to keep up. So he had to choose a route that made him seem cool and collected, unfaced by the meeting, where only his stupid eyes could betray something more simmering behind the surface,

“Tsukki?” he lamely landed on. It seemed like a more casual way to approach the situation, made him seem more in control, more unfaced than if he used his full name. Furthermore, he seemed to remember that the snarky guy did not particularly like being called by that nickname, which only seemed like a bonus in his book. 

“I was surprised there for a bit, did not expect to see you here,” he said conversationally, letting his signature smirk paint his features. He lifted one hand to his hair and nonchalantly let it brush through the wildness. The conversation of the girls fading out of existence as he looked at Tsukishima. 

Tsukishima continued to stare at him through cold, unreadable eyes. Had Kuroo been made of less strong calibre, he would have squirmed under the intensity of them. Eyes that, despite their strong exterior, seemed so deep behind those glasses, deep and full of mysteries to be uncovered. If one moment in his life had to be described as heat, Kuroo thought, this was that moment. This meeting, those eyes was that moment. He had grown even more during those last 2 + years, the height difference between them has become even more notable. Something Kuroo noticed with less than enthusiasm. The once thin boy had also grown into his proportions a little more, based on how he seemed to fill out his sweater more than before. However, his hair was cut in the same short and curly style where small curls peeked curiously down his forehead. And his eyes, yeah, his eyes were exactly the same. 

Tsukishima finally broke the tense eye-contact while clicking sarcastically with his tongue, and started simply to walk past him. Kuroo, not one for accepting being left standing like an idiot, took hold of Tsukishima’s upper arm, halting him in the process of leaving.

“You know, the polite thing is to answer” still plastered with a fake, confident smile.

Halting, Tsukishima answered with a sneer “ Last time I checked, my name was not ‘Tsukki’, so didn’t feel obligated to answer”, flicking his eyes carefully up and down the older male, before adding “nor was it a question” 

“It’s not about obligation, it’s about basic polite manners,” Kuroo retorted, winking playfully with his left eye. Determined to get the upper hand of the situation. 

“That’s rich coming from you,” the younger boy practically spat, hinting to his grabbed over-arm before pulling it harshly back to himself. Probably hinting to a lot more in the past. 

Their battle for dominance over, for the lack of a better word, the conversation was abruptly stopped by both girls shouting their names accusingly,

“Kuroo!” “Tsukishima!”

Turning simultaneously to the girls, they saw them standing in front of them with equally disappointing stances. Hands placed firmly at their hips, and eyebrows raised. 

“Do you guys know each other?” Ayako asked, looking between the two simmering boys. 

It took a couple of moments before any of the boys answered. Tsukishima only nodded, but Kuroo, being the chatterbox he is, said through fake cheerfulness,

“Yeah, we played volleyball together in High School. Was just surprised to see him”

“Understatement of the year,” said Tsukishima, rolling his eyes. 

“I can’t believe it! What are the odds? “ Yui chirped, then said, “ This is a perfect opportunity to both catch-up and also get to know each other better.” The hostility in the air was completely forgotten by the girls. 

“Yeah right? We just mentioned that us two being here with our boyfriends felt like a fateful meeting. We have not seen each other since Yui moved to Miyagi after elementary school. And now that we know that you guys know each other from the past… and we are all attending the same university…. It must be fate!” Ayako explained, excitement basically overflowing all her features. 

“We should totally do a double date!”

“Totally!” Ayako agreed.

Kuroo watched in bewilderment at the blond boy next to him. Tsukishima … had a girlfriend? That seemed like two parts of different sentences thrown haphazardly together, testing what would happen when two halves of different whole units were matched. Like the gods had been throwing dice of incomplete sentences in boredom, matching the most ridiculous answers together. Or like somebody had the ability to match two like-poles points together of a magnet, and thus defied the law of physics. Sure, he could admit that Tsukishima was not that bad to look at. He could even admit to the most inner part of himself that he was rather handsome. No homo naturally. But together with his looks, came the personality as a whole package deal. Like a 1+1 offer no sane person would accept. 

“You have a girlfriend?” he asked in disbelief, looking up and down at Tsukishima as to ask ..how? 

“You got into University?” Tsukishima jabbed back, some of his cold smirk of the past returned to his lips

“Touché” 

However, before the boys had the opportunity to actually register the part about the ‘double date’, Ayako exclaimed that she really needed to run. She reminded Yui to text her later with a small nudge towards her phone, gave Kuroo a goodbye kiss on the cheek and hurried out of the cafe. Kuroo rubbed uncomfortably on his sticky cheek covered in lip gloss. 

The departure of Ayako left the three rooted where they stood to look awkwardly at each other. To break the noticeable tension between the two boys, Yui suggested that she and Tsukishima should leave as well. Tsukishima, like the asshole he was in Kuroo’s opinion, only nodded curtly as a response and began walking out of the cafe without looking back or saying goodbye. But who was he to judge? Kuroo was not exactly first in line to win boyfriend of the year award either. Following her boyfriend with her gaze, she quickly waved at Kuroo with a smile and shouted after him that she looked forward to their double date as she exited the doors of Coffee Bean together with Tsukishima.  


It was at that moment Tsukishima and Kuroo understood what had just happened. They were going on a double date together. Together as in Tsukishima and Kuroo. Date as in having to stay civil towards each other over the course of several hours. The barrier between the past and present had officially been torn down, crumbled to dust on the floor and left a gaping hole of uncertainty as to where the future would take them now. How this unlikely meeting, the entanglement of two people bearing their separate grudges, would unfold from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol I promise I did not intend for Kuroo to be such a douche, I just don't think I'm capable of writing nice main characters


	3. Hawaiian Pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things progress - kinda?

**Hawaiian Pizza**

**Tsukishima.**

Tsukishima could not believe it, would not believe it. He felt so lost, so vulnerable now that fate had decided to scrap his new chapter in the unfinished book called Tsukishima’s life, the new chapter in which he had worked so hard on writing. Now his promising career as an author of his own life, his independence as an author in his own life had been disregarded in favour of ‘popular opinion’. Because who likes to read a story where nothing happens, where the past never comes back to haunt you? Popular opinion demands drama, and thus his new chapter must provide so. Must be rewritten. The gods must be laughing at his misery. Laughing at how he was laying down in the coach as a useless vegetable, regretting every moment in his life that led up to this particular Saturday. Laying straight out, arms crossed over his chest and eyes boring metaphorical holes in the torn ceiling tapestry. Time felt like a fleeting, inconsequential unit. For what was 11 some hours trapped inside the mental prison of regret and mental restlessness? 

For who was Kuroo Tetsuro to walk into his life again with his stupidly large smile and regular nonchalance? Who was he to demand the resurrection of forgotten emotions with his presence alone? He wished he could write off the meeting as an insignificant event in the whole picture, but Kuroo had always been beyond logical reason. Because there was no logical reason that explains why the guy impacted him so much, why just this one out of multiple people he hated radiated such long-lasting anger. And now, he was forced to, if not by any miracle the girls would forget, sit next to and entertain the source of so much shame and anger. That stupid idiot. 

Yamaguchi came home closer to midnight. His whole body language radiated the exact opposite energy of Tsukishima’s own. His freckled face was the home of radiant bright eyes glowing from a ‘stupidly in love’ expression matched perfectly with a cheesy grin. Noticing Tsukishima on the couch but failing to notice his mood, he said with a content sigh “Tsukki! I’m back” 

He plopped down on a horribly orange bean bag on Tsukishima’s foot end on the couch, and continued “Yachi’s mom is soon going to plan our wedding the way she dotes on us.”

“How terribly fantastic,” Tsukishima muttered to the roof with as much venom as he could muster.

Yamaguchi flicked his love-struck gaze over to the moody figure lying on the couch, scrunching his eyebrows slightly together. “Hello to you too sunshine,” he said half-jokingly and half accusingly. 

Tsukishimja sent him a deadpanned look, “When am I ever even remotely close to being labelled sunshine?”

“You are quite cute when you are asleep” he winked sideways to Tsukishima with a teasing tone. Then added in a bit more serious, yet curious tone, “ But you know what I mean. You are literally radiating murderous energy. I’m actually quite sorry for whomever this energy is directed towards” His gaze was intense, as if trying to find the answer in the deep angry wrinkles in Tsukishima’s face.

“Then start praying for every damn hellish or godly creature with a terrible sense of humour” Tsukishima barked

“Oooh, somebody has really gotten on your bad side” Yamaguchi was basically glowing with curiosity now. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah sure,” Tsukishima said unkindly, “When hell freezes over and Kuroo is there to suffer a-” he quickly cut himself off in shock, blocking his mouth with his palms and eyes large in disbelief. He was never one to speak before he had carefully considered his own words, never one to let slip unwanted information. But here he was doing exactly that, his rage rendering his carefully controlled mind weak and thus shared information he was not ready to voice out loud. Not ready to share. 

“Kuroo?” Yamaguchi’s tone and expression mirrored his own shock. “Nekoma’s old captain? What has he to do with anything?”

“Besides making me question how people can be that loud and annoying you mean?” Tsukishima said curtly as if trying to save himself from the blunder.

Studying his features carefully, Yamaguchi said unconvinced “Is that really what is bothering you right now?”

“Drop it, Yamaguchi,” he said warningly

“Did you meet him here in this area? Does he also go to Tokyo University? Did you talk to him?”

“Stop asking” 

“But Tsu-”

“Drop it,” he said with an undisputable finality. 

“Ok, but you know you can't run from me forever. Nor your feelings” he said as a warning. Not asking, but telling Tsukishima that eventually, he would crack, eventually, he would talk to him. Yamaguchi shifted his gaze away from Tsukishima, turned on the TV and started lazily to flick through the channels. Silence fell, and the topic was dropped. For now. But Tsukishima knew better than anyone else that albeit he won this battle, the war was far from over.

\--------

As the Saturday gloom morphed into an icy clear Friday without a single mention of the dreaded double date, the Kuroo matter had moved further and further away from his thoughts. He had been jumpy all week, had constant nerves of seeing the guy again to the point of experiencing a mini heart attack every time he saw an unruly, wild hair of black. Though it was never Kuroo. Yamaguchi had noticed his jumpiness too, but let the matter stay un brought up for the time being. Tsukishima suspected he was waiting for a time when he could catch him off guard. A time where he would let out more than what he wanted to. Maybe for a moment when he was least suspecting it, curled tiredly on the couch with a hot, sugar-filled tea, completely at peace.

However, the internal stress that acted as the high wind on open water had eventually calmed its temper. Bringing him to the current bliss of forgetfulness. In his wake, at least. Appearing frequently in his dreams, taunting him, reminding him of his shame. But by the time Friday morning came around, he convinced himself that it was only unpleasant nightmares that could be brushed off by the coming of reality. 

He had finally gotten around to organizing their shared apartment to look like an actually inhabited place instead of the temporary state of stressful interim in which the apartment had been since they moved in. He had opened and unpacked all the boxes with his belongings that his parents had sent him the previous week, and his room was starting to actually feel like home. He had even bought a new shelf from IKEA that had been delivered earlier that week, and yesterday he had taken the time to exhibit his secret dinosaur collection ~~proudly~~ on the minimalistic shelves. Ranging from old childhood books on the topic to stuffed dinosaur toys and figurines. He had even brought with him the old white sheet from his childhood home that he used to cover his shelf with the few times he had visitors over that was not Yamaguchi. That he would now use to cover the shelf with when Yui came over. Not that they usually spent so much time together in their respective bedrooms. 

He had also taken an actual physical trip to IKEA with Yamaguchi that Monday to pick out and buy some of the lighter items the apartment needed. They had bought a whole bunch of kitchen necessaries, though they spent a good two hours fighting over the preferred style they should go for. Yamaguchi, with his bright personality and taste, preferred a multi-coloured set of cups, cutleries, bowls and plates. While Tsukishima, on his end, refused to go for anything besides a monochrome, simple black set. They had settled for Tsukishima’s wish on the condition that they chose the bright orange shower curtains and equally as obnoxiously orange towels that matched the bean bag for both the bathroom and the kitchen. It reminded Tsukishima too much of Karasuno, but as long as the kitchen necessities were tucked far back in the old cabinets, it was not too noticeable. He could bear with it. Tucked away in the same fashion as his old Karasuno uniform- all the way back in his closet. Sometimes he wondered why he even brought it at all.

Everyday annoying matters had also helped to get his mind off stuff he rather would forget- or more correctly, a person. He had spent a good amount of time being irritated at the next-door neighbours instead of Kuroo. Last weekend, for the third weekend in a row, they had been annoyingly loud little shits without any respect for their neighbours' sleep schedule. And Tsukishima could swear that even on the weekends, they sometimes were up to god knows what at ungodly hours. Even though they had lived in the same apartment complex, the same floor, for nearly 4 weeks, neither he nor Yamaguchi had met either of the occupants behind the four doors on their floor. And Tsukishima did honestly prefer it that way. But he hoped for the love of everything that was good and holy that they could please shut up this weekend.

What did throw all his efforts into the fire, however, was an uncomfortable meeting with Kuroo and Bokuto while grocery shopping just 4 ish hours earlier. Setting a completely different tone for his friday than he had expected. Or it was not actually all that uncomfortable, as he felt that he stumbled upon Kuroo in a rather embarrassing situation. His verbal blows had landed, and he left the interaction feeling like he held the upper-hand, and that actually felt good. Actually felt good for his pride for the first time while interacting with the guy. He would keep that interaction hidden in his secret happy pride boosting place of his mind. But uncomfortable because that made him think of him again. 

08:00 pm, it was early Friday evening, and Yamaguchi had just come home from stopping by Yachi on the way home to deliver some disgustingly romantic flowers he had bought while they were at the mart. A small bouquet of red Salvia that Yamaguchi had found out from a girly blog meant ‘forever mine’. If he himself would ever do that for Yui, he is convinced that she would probably have to be hospitalized from shock. But luckily, he didn't think he had to worry about that. Romantic gestures were not exactly his thing. Yamaguchi was currently buried in the same orange bean sack in which he had sat on that ominous day of the reunion with Kuroo. A content smile was painting his lips, a smile of pure happiness, a smile that was always present after meeting with Yachi, a smile that even made the stiff lines of Tsukishima’s own mouth twitch upwards ever so slightly. The happiness of his friend was dangerously contagious when he was not in a murderous mood. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Yamaguchi asked casually, tilting his head backwards to look at Tsukishima that was curled up in the corner of the sofa, blanket curled tightly around himself.

“That highly depends,” he answered sceptically, furrowing his brows together

“On what?” Yamaguchi cocked his head

“On your current mood,” he said, though knowing perfectly well what kind of mood Yamaguchi was currently in

“On my mood?”

“If you are sad, the answer is no. I’ve watched enough tragic romance movies to last me a lifetime,” he started, then added “And if you are happy, the answer is also no. I’m not gonna spend my Friday watching rom-coms either.”

“But Tsukki-”

“The answer is no.”

“Then what mood do I have to be in for you to watch a movie with me?”

“Neutral,” Tsukishima sniggered “Cuz then you don’t complain about my movie choices. That for your information is actually worth watching.”

“.....That’s because you only choose documentaries.”

“Take it or leave it dumbass,” Tsukishima shrugged, on his way to stand up and leave the living room.

“Fine,” Yamaguchi gave up with a frustrated sigh. “Just not about the World Wars, they ruin my mood.” 

“Yeah, what a ridiculous idea. To actually learn something worthwhile, that would be a shame,” Tsukishima retorted, his answer dripping with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. 

“Now you are just being mean,” the shorter boy sulked, though not really sad.

“Your point being?” He answered sassily, though he could not hide a small smile that was currently present due to the warm nature of the bickering, such simple, warm moments. And he sat down again.

“FINE! I know you actually love me,” he said childlessly, and added “Then I am deciding that we are ordering Pizza,” he then paused for a dramatic revelation “Hawaiian Pizza.”

“No, don’t you dare.”

“Everything is fair in love and war,” he teased

“That is not even a remotely correct application of that phrase.”

“You love me, and this is a war on Friday evening plans. So I think it's the exact correct application of that phrase,” Yamaguchi jabbed back trying to conceal a huge evil grin. A huge evil grin that broke out in an eerie laugh “Besides, I’ve already ordered through the app.” He smugly turned the Phone screen towards Tsukishima to prove the finalized order. 

He looked in bewilderment at the order on the screen before him, at the smug boy before him. He had seen Yamaguchi grow out of his shell, grown some backbone in the last couple of years...but the nerve of him to actually fight back. Astonished was the only thing he could feel for some long, dragged out seconds. He turned away sharply from the boy, struggling to control his shocked expression. Control the need for control. One thing was for certain, this meant war. But not for the obvious reasons. Deep down, he knew that most of his need to fight back was not really due to the nature of the stupid pizza nor the fact that Yamaguchi had challenged him...but the fact that seriously stupid thoughts had entered his brain.

Stupid thoughts about a certain stupid volleyball player he thought he could (once again) put behind him. Kuroo probably likes stupid pizza toppings like pineapple, that's so stupidly like a person like him, Tsukishima thought. This is the kind of stupid challenge Kuroo would love, the kind he could imagine he could have with Kuroo (minus the love), Tsukishima thought. Because, if he thought about the battle for dominance that happened between them in the cafe, in the grocery store….he could admit after winning last, that it was doing wonders for his pride. Did he win during the cafe meeting? He was too stuck in his emotions to really remember. 

I guess I leave that as a tie, 2-1 to me, Tsukishima thought to himself. Letting this childish need for pride boosting affect his interactions with Yamaguchi was probably not the best way to handle the situation - but when it came to pride, Tsukishima was rarely the reasonable one. 

When the monstrosity that somebody dared called pizza arrived at their apartment a 40 minutes later, it was time for Tsukishima to make his move. Time to act on the ridiculous rush he had gotten from winning the upper hand with Kuroo. He had been sulking in the corner of the sofa for the entirety of the time it took for the pizza to arrive. Sulking because his plans of careful revenge were not progressing as he wanted, sulking for letting his pride and anger issue with Kuroo affect Yamaguchi, sulking because he did not want Kuroo to affect him like this. However, the sight of pineapples on pizza placed the guilt on hold, and he was carefully thinking about the worst possible documentary that Yamaguchi could ever imagine watching. At this point, he did not care whether he himself actually wanted to watch it, because he would still be suffering no matter what he chose. He would still be suffering because his stomach was screaming for food, and there was currently only the option of Hawaiian “pizza” to stifle his hunger. If he did not opt for starting to make a whole new meal. He would suffer because of his stupid thoughts. 

Then he found it, the perfect documentary. And his face lit up in evil glee. He may actually enjoy watching this, because firstly, he enjoyed geology and secondly, he could watch the slow internal death of Yamaguchi in addition. He opened YouTube on their Chrome TV Box, and searched for the 2 part series called “Dynamic Glacial and Tectonic History of the Teton Range”. A three and a half hour rumoured masterpiece in the realm of geology. Hopefully a Kuroo free three and a half hours. 

“You must be kidding with me,” said Yamaguchi with a face of utter disbelief.

“Nope, sit back and enjoy.”

“You win this round Tsukki. But if I were you, I would sleep with one eye open.”

“Oh, I am so scared,” He deadpanned and started the documentary. But the fantastic rush of boosted pride never came. Winning over Yamaguchi felt not like a win, but only a douche move. And now, he only felt guilty, felt like a shitty friend. Because winning over Yamaguchi was not like winning over Kuroo, his actions towards Yamaguchi gave him simply no satisfaction. Only guilt.

But one thing was for certain, he would sleep with one eye open. Simply because there was no way he was going to lull himself into a peaceful sleep. A peaceful sleep which certainly, again, would be interrupted by the taunting smirk of Kuroo looking down at him on the Volleyball court. Kuroo telling him how much he sucked. Kuroo showed him how much he sucked. Now maybe more than ever, as he let himself be affected to the point where he needed to punish his friend. Now more than ever, he really did suck.

An hour or so later, however, they could hear, for the 4th week in a row, the loud music next door. And Tsukishima thought to himself, maybe I won't have to sleep with one eye open. Most likely, I won't get any sleep at all. 

\--------

**Kuroo.**

Kuroo woke up at what he would consider a reasonable time to wake up on a free Friday. That is to say, way past noon. However, this morning was far from the relaxing, slow morning in which he had anticipated. A slow morning of taking advantage of the leisure life grants you when it is vacation. Admittedly, there was no ‘singing’ (to put it nicely) Bokuto to forcefully pull him out of sweet dreams of coffee filled adventures and ecstasy. A favourite travel destination of his when he entered the deep realms of REM sleep that pushed the boundaries of realism. An adventure-filled reality of a vast land of mysteries to be solved and coffee tasting everything, from the grass he strolled carefree through on barefoot feet to the clouds that hung low on the horizon. In this particular dream, he was indeed in his personal heaven again, but something was terribly wrong. There was a presence there. A tall, dark shadow with the outline of short curly hair that would constantly criticize his taste in coffee. Criticise his taste, his imagination, his escape. The shadow would scoff and look down at him with radiant golden eyes in his otherwise dark presence and say condescendingly “Pathetic”. It rendered everything pleasant about his dream escapes useless, uncomfortable. 

In the back of his mind, he knew who this shadow was. However, he did not want to explore that thought. He did not want to waste his energy, his good mood, on people that made his blood boil in anger. Because that was what he had been doing for the last few days, ever since Saturday. He had dwelled on the thought of Tsukishima. Dwelled on his misfortune that, not only would he have to bump into him at the university from time to time, but Ayako was apparently childhood friends with Tsukishima’s girlfriend. Which both meant that he most likely could not delete his irritating presence from his life. Also….the thought of somebody ever wanting to date such a rude little shit, such an apathetic guy without the ability to be passionate, was still so surreal to him. He could not imagine him showing any type of affection, showing sincerity, showing love. How did he even have sex with such a cold exterior? Did he even have sex? And once again, he failed to not explore his inner thoughts about the guy he really did not want back into his life. 

No let's not go there, Kuroo thought while shaking his head furiously at the thought of Tsukishima in any sexual context. One thing he could admit though, despite how much he disliked the guy, he was an interesting character. It was interesting to imagine him, though most of the time it was impossible, doing anything normal with his sour exterior and snarky remarks. But this was taking it too far. 

He turned his head to the side, towards the bedside table, and squinted towards the digital alarm clock. 2:30 pm, not bad. Yet, he had certain commitments to uphold that day and he simply could not allow himself to laze around in bed all day. And even if he did not have things that actually had to be done, he would always regret it in the evening when he decided on spending a whole day playing phone games in his bed. Only taking short trips to the kitchen when his stomach complained loudly enough. A high energy person like himself was not made for low-productivity days. On those days, he would end up working out in the middle of the night and fucking up his circadian rhythm even further. Not to mention that his midnight workouts would wake up a highly sour Bokuto that had work the next morning. Sometimes Bokuto became so annoyed at his loud workout routine that he literally threw Kuroo out of the apartment, leaving him to jog around aimlessly, sometimes for hours at an end. 

He pulled himself up from bed, his body sighting thankfully for the full 8+ hours of sleep that he had given it that night. Though his mind was not as thankful for the disturbance to his dream world. 

“Look who the cat dragged in,” Bokuto taunted in a cheery fashion towards the newly awake Kuroo stepping into the living room. 

“Who are you? My mother?” Kuroo mocked back with a smirk.

“Only when I have to be bro,” Bokuto answered easily, his presence exuberating of a person who has been up for hours doing what society would consider productive things. “Anyways, go and eat something quickly and get ready - you agreed to join grocery shopping today”

“Can’t we just order pizza tonight?” Kuroo asked with a sigh, hating grocery shopping beyond any type of shopping. Shopping for something that will just disappear into his stomach right away, leaving for a repeated cycle of shopping, just was not his thing. He liked cooking, but buying the things required for cooking was another story. 

“Sure we can, but we still should have something more in the house than a half-empty juice box, some stale bread, Nutella and empty pizza boxes.”

Agreeing reluctantly, Kuroo ate two slices of stale bread with Nutella and started to get ready for a couple of hours of what likely would become another episode of the series Kuroo liked to call ‘Bokuto being way too excited about every new product and flavours offered by the local university mart’.

At 3:30 pm, Kuroo and Bokuto left for the mart. This Friday was a particularly clear Friday, where a sheer layer of frost was painting each surface with microscopic snowflakes. The small patches of grass that had broken through the hard concrete floor with a force only nature inhabited were standing stiffly from the cold. So frozen through that a gust of wind could probably slice it in half. Their breath formed white clouds that reflected light from the clear sun rays of a cloudless sky. 

The university mart was only a short walk from their building, but long enough to make them shiver from the sharp weather as they entered the warm exterior of the mart. Replicating the feeling of exiting a plane from a long, air-conditioned ride to a tropical hot area. 

It was, as Kuroo expected, a long ordeal of picking out various groceries, weighing price options and the difference between wants and needs. Everything in order to balance their not exactly limitless budget and living beyond just surviving. Bokuto had spent a good ordeal of time in the dairy section, using up more brain energy than he could really afford to decide whether they should stick with their old trustee wild berry yoghurt or risk a maybe unlikeable option of the newly offered lime, ginger and green apple flavour. All while Kuroo had stood idly by, not minding either option. He was not a picky person. Bokuto was not a particularly picky person either but considered each grocery choice a crucial choice, often saying,

“But what if I liked the old flavour better, and I would waste a meal eating a 2nd rank flavour? But what if I like this flavour better, and would spend the rest of my life not knowing? But also, there are always new flavours, and always buying the new ones would further waste my meals by continuing to try new stuff when I know there is already a good alternative out there. Because all flavours can’t beat the OG flavour. But some flavours might do…. What should I do bro?”

“What should I do bro? Wild berries or this…” looking down at the yoghurt again to remind himself of the flavour “Lime, ginger and green apple flavour?” 

“Don’t think yoghurt, just think in general - do you like wild berries or apples more?” Kuroo said with a sigh, having already had this discussion when it came to juice, chips and dipping sauce today. 

“Bro! You know the answer is wild berries,” Bokuto said, surprised.

“Well, there you have your answer.”

“Of course! Why didn't I think of that? I know I can always count on my bro when it comes to such difficult but important matters” Bokuto said with an expression like a metaphorical light bulb had been turned on inside his brain. Bokuto put a six-pack of wild berry flavoured yoghurt down the already half-full carrier, and they continued on their grocery adventure. Picking out several more things as they went along.

What was not as Kuroo expected, however, was to spot a certain tall, blond person that had definitely not haunted his subconsciousness for the past week together with his shorter friend. He took a couple of seconds to actually take in who he saw, but the second it dawned on him, he was fast to grab an unsuspected Bokuto by the arm and drag him sharply behind the closest asile, and crouched down. Peeking his head carefully out from the side of the aisle to check if he was spotted. 

“Dude, what are you doing?” Bokuto said confused, but imitated Kuroo’s actions and stuck his head out as well to see if he could spot what they were hiding from. Opening his eyes in surprised shock, he said “ Is that that Tsukishima kid….and that other kid from Karasuno as well? What are they doing here?”

“Yes,” he started, dragging Bokuto’s head back together with him into the aisle as they seemed un-spotted. “And oh no, can’t be that they are actually are grocery shopping” he said with sarcasm.

“You know what I meant, like here here, here in Tokyo,” Bokuto said, still surprised. “We should say hi! ask!” he added enthusiastically. But added again as he remembered, “Why are we hiding again?”

“So you can’t do exactly that, say hi,” Kuroo muttered.

“Why? We should ask them how Karasuno did after we graduated! Ask why they are here!” he said dumbfounded.

“Because.... I don’t like the dude.”

“Which one of them?”

“....Tsukishima,” the name sounded weird in his mouth.

“Huh? But he was our proteg-” Bokuto started, but was interrupted by the surprised voice of Tsukishima’s shorter friend.

“Kuroo-san? Bokuto-san? What are you guys doing here?”. After the initial shock of seeing them seemed to fade, the friend looked at Tsukishima with somewhat of a knowing glint in his eyes. Like he understood something in which he did not before.

The pair of them, Kuroo and Bokuto that is, looked very ridiculous where they stood cradled tightly behind an aisle in the middle of a mart. Kuroo flicked his eyes towards the taller blond, looking at the no-giving expression of the guy. Though he could swear that he saw some small glints of instant surprise, and naturally, some annoyance for having been dragged into the conversation.

“I was just ... “ In his haste to explain this weird position he was caught in, to look equally unfaced as the taller guy, he quickly took out the first thing he could grab from the aisle, stood up and said hastily, “...looking for this,” pointing towards a package of unknown nature to Kuroo in his hands. A package of women’s maxi pads.

A malistic grin appeared in Tsukishima’s eyes, and he raised his eyebrow as he said mockingly, “Ah, an interesting choice.”

Kuroo looked at the package in his hands, and an expression of outright mortification coloured his face. He looked from the package to Tsukishikma and down to the package again. How was he able to always feel so dumb in front of this shitty guy? He should feel superior, superior for his passion and dedication. But here he was, like in his dream, being the one to be looked down upon. Trying to cover up his embarrassment, he scratched his head casually and smiled,

“Yeah you know, Ayako asked me to pick them up for her”

“I’m sure she would be delighted to hear that you are announcing her monthly cycle so publicly,” Tsukishima said in a disrespectful jeering manner, rendering Kuroo a bit lost for words. God, how he hated the git. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” Tsukishimima said in a condescending manner, and added “Come Yamaguchi, we are leaving” he then looked towards the former Fukurodani player and gave a curt nod, “Bokuto-san”. His friend that he really could not remember the name of looked calculating for a few seconds but followed Tsukishima without arguing. “Hope we will run into each other again!” he said cheerfully, looking back to give a goodbye greeting. Bokuto naturally waved happily at them and excitedly called back “Let’s get together and play volleyball one day”. 

Great, thought Kuroo, another point of connection. And if he was to guess, Bokuto had completely missed the undertones of this small interaction.

“Oh man, it’s gonna be difficult to carry all this shit if we need to step by Ayako on our way home” he hinted to the two, now full, heavy carriers.

“....No Bokuto, just no”

\--------

Akaashi, Oikawa and Iwaizumi were coming over later that evening. 

Akaashi was the one that in the first place had inspired Bokuto and Kuroo to aim for a common goal, everyone together, to go to Tokyo University. Though they all had wanted to walk in different academic directions, those directions all existed there. And they had worked hard together during Kuroo and Bokuto's senior year in high school to reach for that common goal, to go there together. Something that only served to solidify the already strong foundation of their friendship. Initially, they had actually planned to find a place where they all three could live together after Akaashi had graduated the year after. Planning for Kuroo and Bokuto to live at the dorms during freshman year. However, a week-long camping trip together after high school graduation had apparently made Akaashi realize that there was no way he could live with the two loud idiots that were Kuroo and Bokuto. He had said,

“If we want to remain friends, we simply can't live together. I will probably throw you both out before even my first semester has started” 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi had they met through volleyball club activities in their freshman year. Sharing a common passion for the sport was usually enough to become instant friends with the simple-minded Kuroo and Bokuto. Oikawa was attending Tokyo University on a similar scholarship as Bokuto, and Iwaizumi …. well, Kuroo did not really know. Iwaizumi follows where Oikawa goes and pretends he hates it judging by how much he harasses Oikawa and calls him by creative, rude nicknames. But they were a closely glued couple of friends, one would usually not be found without the other, and though Kuroo understood that they were childhood friends … he could not really understand the bond between them.

Neither did most other people, as their closeness had resulted in a nasty rumour about them during the second half of freshman year. Regarding their ..sexual orientation. However, they had handled it like champions, kept calm and simply rejected the rumour when directly confronted. He admired that about them. He could not imagine how he would react to being on the receiving end of such false rumours, to endure such harassment. It was like, when it came to gay matters, people at University had not matured much from primary school mentality. But had he? If he was honest with himself, he was not sure how he would have reacted if the rumour had turned out to be true. He would naturally not harass them, call them names… but would he maybe unconsciously or consciously take some distance? Kuroo was not sure. 

But if a rumour of his little problem were to start, were to spread- would a similar conclusion be made about him? That was, in fact, Kuroo’s biggest fear.

“Should we...I dunno clean before they come?” Bokuto asked while scratching the back of his head, looking around at the semi-mess that was their small living room.

“Nah man, they've been here in worse condition,” he said distractedly. He was sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room, staring holes into his phone while contemplating what excuse besides ‘I just didn't bother’ he should give to his girlfriend for not responding to her messages before 8 pm in the evening.

 **From Ayako (08:45):** Good morning! I’m on my way to work now ^^  
**From Ayako (14:00):** I’m on break now, still asleep?  
**From Ayako (17:10):** DONE! You are having the guys over today right? Say hi to them from me :)  
**From Ayako (18:04):** Kuroo? 

He was such a bad boyfriend. How she had not realized this was beyond Kuroo and really everyone else around them. If her so-called friends were true friends, they should really sit her down and watch the movie ‘He’s just not that into you’. Maybe then she would realize? Though he was thankful they didn’t. Even though interacting romantically with the girl simply drained him. Putting up an act of interest drained him. Especially when there was little to non-sexual benefit added to the equation. Especially when there was somebody else that occupied his thoughts lately. Somebody that had utterly humiliated him today. But despite all that, he still had a hope that he would magically change.

Maybe a half-truth of all this could actually be his escape?

 **(20:10):** I’m sorry for responding late.  
**(20:11):** Tbh, I’ve been a bit mentally drained today and my mind has just not been where it should have.  
**(20:11):** But yeah, they are coming over in two hours

He didn't need to wait long for a response.

 **From Ayako (20:04):** You could have just said that….  
**From Ayako (20:04):** Is there anything, in particular, that is bothering you?

He needed a couple of minutes to figure out what he should write, how honest he should be. He was not exactly keen on sharing his inner turmoil with her, but at the same time, he didn't think she would simply let it go if he did not answer sufficiently…

 **(20:12):** To be honest…. I’m not sure  
**(20:13):** My thoughts don’t really makes sense right now  
**(20:13):** It’s nothing serious, promise. I’ll let you know when I know myself

Save the stress to think of a suitable explanation for later, he thought to himself. Noticing some shuffling in front of him, he looked up to find Bokuto sitting himself down in front of him. He crossed one leg over the other, holding tightly each foot in his hand as he looked expectantly at Kuroo. Kuroo simply raised his eyebrow questioningly in response to the other’s action. 

“Sooooo…..” Bokuto started, looking innocently back and forth between Kuroo and everywhere else. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what? Ayako?” Kuroo’s questioningly eyebrow rose even further, and he made a motion to hint towards his phone.

“Nah, given up on that subject. But you know...that earlier at the mart”

That was not what Kuroo was expecting to be honest. Especially because he was sure that Bokuto did not pick up on 90% of what was actually going on during that short conversation earlier. The topic of Tsukishima had been swimming around his head for the past week but never had he really felt like sharing any of that out loud. But maybe it was ok if it was Bokuto.

“Uhm, how to explain man?” Kuroo said uncertainty, scratching his chin in thought. “You remember last Saturday when I met Ayako for coffee right?” 

Bokuto simply nodded, eyes now full of focus. 

“Well, apparently Tsukishima and his girlfriend were there as well. And then I found out that Ayako and Tsukishima’s girlfriend was childhood friends, and then they found out that Tsukishima and I knew each other, and then Tsukishima was rude as shit as usual, didn’t even say hi when I greeted him, and then Ayako and Tsukishima’s girlfriend decided that we should go on a double date. But the problem is, Tsukishima and I don’t really like each other, and when we meet it’s like a word battle for dominance, and like… It’s just very childish and frustrating” Kuroo rambled on in a confusing manner, not being able to properly explain his own puzzled mind.

It took a couple of seconds for Bokuto to absorb this information, to make sense of Kuroo’s rambling, but what he ended up answering made Kuroo laugh out loud

“Tsukishima has a girlfriend?” he asked with puzzlement filling his facial features. 

“My thoughts exactly bro!” 

“Like, he just doesn't seem like a boyfriend type of guy. But hey, good for him!” he said in thought while shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t get why you don’t like the guy though, he plays volleyball!” He said in a tone that made it clear that Bokuto’s threshold for liking people was non-existent if they played volleyball.

“Man, where to start? Firstly, he is allergic to being nice. Which btw, is a completely legit reason for not liking somebody. Secondly, he thought of volleyball as merely a club, how can I as a former captain support such apathetic thinking?” 

“He may have found his passion for volleyball after we graduated. You should not judge the kid for not having everything figured out over 2 years ago” Bokuto said thoughtfully, seemingly only interested in the volleyball part of his reasoning.

“I don’t know man. Some people simply don’t get along” and the conversation ended there.

At 10 pm, the five friends were sitting around the small rectangular kitchen table that had been moved to the living room for the guest occasion. They were all spread around in the couch or in the too low for the table, red and black bean bags, and were munching on pre-dinner snacks and drinking lightly from the beer Oikawa had brought to the gathering. Kuroo had turned the music on for some background noise while they were talking animatedly about everything and nothing. After an hour of pre-snacking, they decided to order pizza from a local pizza chain that closed 2 am on weekends, and went back to non-food related conversations. 

“And then she told me that she was not looking for anything casual, and left me half-hard on this very couch” Bokuto whined as he had drained his first beer. “I feel so high and dry now, I can feel my libido scream in protest”

“Never considered actually settling for a relationship like a normal person and calm your desperate libido that way?” asked Oikawa sassily. 

“Like you are one to talk, can’t see you settling for anybody either” Bokuto bickered back.

It flickered an unreadable expression on both Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s faces, almost like guilt, before Oikawa immediately went back to smiling in his nonchalant way “I’m not the one complaining about my dry sex life” he said with a wink.

“I just don’t think I have the time to be a good boyfriend for anybody, and I don’t want to half-ass it as certain people in this room,” he said while side-eying Kuroo.

“I don't endorse half-assing, but at least he can’t complain about an unsatisfying sex life” Iwaizumi added in. Bokuto, who had just opened his second can of beer and taken a large gulp, spat everything out in a forceful surprised laugh. Kuroo was looking at him with murder in his eyes which only made the guy laugh even harder. His pondering in regards to Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s puzzling looks completely forgotten. 

“Anything we are missing?” Akaashi asked with calculating eyes towards the two boys. Akaashi was always way too good at analysing situations, analysing him, and Kuroo wanted nothing less than letting his secret be known to more people. He could feel a large clump settle in his throat, choke him up, rendering him useless to come up with anything smart to answer back. 

“Haha no man, how can I say….” Bokuto started, obviously trying hard to think of a way to save the situation. “Let’s just say that they don’t do it as often as Kuroo would have liked to”

“Bokuto,” Kuroo said warningly

“I see,” Akaashi answered, still with that analyzing, but now also non-convinced look on his face.

“Well, there is no secret that guys usually wanna do it more often than girls,” Oikawa chimed in a matter of factly manner. 

“Way to generalize genders, and endorse gender stereotypes Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi muttered sourly. 

“Iwa-chaan, don’t be like that,” Oikawa whined in response, “It just fitted in this situation.”

While Oikawa and Iwaizumi were bickering between themselves, Akaashi turned the conversation back towards Kuroo with a voice that indicated that something more was hiding behind the simple words.

“So anything new you wanna share?”

“Me?” he answered innocently while looking down at the can in his hand, sloshing it slowly around by moving the can around in unrestful circle motions, “No? Not that I can think of”

“I see,” he said again, not seeming anymore convinced.

“What are you talking about bro? What about the whole ordeal with Ayako being best friend’s with the girlfriend of Tsukishima from Karasuno, and now you are going on a double date!” Bokuto exclaimed, once again displaying the complete lack of subtlety and ability to keep private information secret when not directly being told its a secret. Kuroo simply facepalmed, and the room became completely silent after the surprising news, and they were all looking at him. 

“There is no set date yet so I didn't see the reason to bring it up” he mumbled sourly into his can while avoiding eye contact.

“How did that sour-faced glasses-kun get a girlfriend?” Oikawa asked with a slightly disgusted wrinkle on his nose. 

Well, that seemed to be the question of the century. 

Kuroo announced that he would pick up some more beer from the fridge before Akaashi could continue the conversation and wriggle some not ready to share information out of him. However, before he could get as far as the fridge, the bell announced that their pizza had arrived. He changed his intended direction from the kitchen to the door and opened as he was looking over to his company and shouted mockingly back to them,

“The Hawaiian pizza is here guys, and whatever less superior thing you other people ordered”. No, Kuroo was not picky, but he had his preferences when it came to pizza.

However, when he turned towards the door, it was not the pizza delivery guy that stood there. Actually, it was nobody that he ever would expect standing outside his door. 

“Kuroo-san? Are you fucking kidding with me?” Tsukishima said with the most disgusted facial expression he had ever seen on anybody. With the most fuckings done tone of voice he has ever heard. Kuroo could not take in what he saw. He could not put two and two together. Because it could simply not be real, had to be a hallucination. Because it was no fucking way he was condemned by any random higher power to meet this guy twice in a day. Let alone outside his own fucking door. If the cafe meeting felt like two separate chapters collapsing, and merging awkwardly together … this had to be the meeting of two parallel universes.

It was silent for the longest of seconds, Kuroo slowly taking in the appearance of the boy in front of him. His hair was unruly, curls bouncing in every direction and his glasses had slightly glided down his nose, revealing faint red marks on the bridge of his nose. He was wearing a loose t-shirt and a homey ‘this is clearly only worn at home’ shorts that exposed long, toned, pale legs that held his attention far longer than it should have. They seemed to go on forever, all the way up to the end of those-

“Hawaiian pizza? Why I’m I not surprised that you like such attention-seeking toppings on pizza?” Tsukishima said loftily, breaking the long awkward silence. 

“Excuse me, pineapple is a superior pizza topping, and you know it” Tsukishima’s voice had dragged Kuroo out of his little trance of disbelief and staring. Or more correctly, his rude words had exchanged his disbelief for annoyance. “And anyway, how can a pizza topping be attention seeking?”

Tsukishima scoffed, “Classic case of snowflake syndrome. You have such an inflated sense of uniqueness, you need to announce your fondness for a topping nobody actually likes. Just for the attention, naturally” 

“ Do you make it your hobby to show up on people’s doors just to harass them?” Kuroo asked, raising his eyebrow slightly and sending him a classic Kuroo smirk to establish an upper-hand he clearly was lacking at the beginning. The smart retort had a most unexpected effect on the younger boy. An absolutely amazing effect. Because Kuroo could swear he saw a hint of red tinting his nose and upper cheek area, a small blush painting his pale skin in embarrassment, in surprise. It revealed a vulnerable side of Tsukishima, one that Kuroo swears he has never seen before. And he was fascinated, intrigued. Because who could have known that making cracks in the mask that was Tsukishima’s exterior could be this thrilling. Give him such a feeling of power. Give him such excited feelings when only hours ago he felt looked down upon, the whole week in fact. He could visibly see how the guy was trying to repair his cracks, get himself together. How uncomfortable he was all of a sudden. “No answer? pity” Kuroo jeered.

“My hobby is to fuckings watch my documentary without my neighbour blasting outdated music so loudly I can’t hear the voice-over,” Tsukishima bit out, clearly disgusted by himself and with yours truly Kuroo. 

“You must have such an interesting life,” Kuroo retorted with an eye roll “We were perfectly able to have a conversation in there, it's not that lou-”” Kuroo halted himself mid-sentence, “Oh hoh, neighbours are you saying?” he was in fact completely dumbfounded by this revelation but acted out his cheeky nature with the professionalism of an actor. 

“Yeah, 906” pointing to the door right next to Kuroo’s own, looking shortly away from Kuroo. Undoubtedly flustered for lacking the upper hand here. “That’s one less than 907 if you were having a hard time calculating” 

“You wound me,” Kuroo said with mock hurt.

“This is heaven’s idea of a good joke?” Tsukishima muttered, mostly to himself. Then said louder “Just turn the volume down”. 

“Well, welcome to the neighbourhood…. _Tsukki_ ” Kuroo turned up his playful personality a notch and added the nick-name with a pause for emphasis. Determined to win against the younger boy. Determined to, in the future, continue to break his mask when given the opportunity. Maybe he really did dislike the boy, but that was most likely the reason it was so fun to get a reaction out of him. The reason his reaction was so thrilling. Even if it was only for a second. 

“I’ll turn it down for the sensitive princess,” winking at the boy. In response, Tsukishima simply clicked his tongue while turning sharply around, and walked to door number 906. Walking with such intensity it seemed like he was trying to hide another crack to his facade. What was clear for Kuroo now, he was excited for another word battle, excited to win over Tsukishima in Tsukishima’s own personal favourite game. Excited to break his facade. And when he thought the evening could not get any better, the pizza delivery guy turned up behind the slamming door of 906. 

\--------

****

**Tsukishima.**

Tsukishima felt officially completely fucked. Completely unable to escape. Felt angry tears threatening to break the barrier, to be released as he slammed the door harshly behind him. Kuroo was his neighbour? That had to be the last thing he expected when he knocked on the neighbouring door to ask them to turn down the volume. And he had blushed in front of the older guy, let him know that he affected him, let him know there was something behind his cold exterior. Was it too late to move? The boost of pride he had felt that morning was back to feeling crushed by Kuroo. 2-2 Kuroo, the score is 2-2. And damn if he was going to let Kuroo get the upper hand anymore because it felt too good to win and too soul-crushing to lose.

“What’s wrong Tsukki? Were the neighbours rude?” he asked concernedly as he saw a rare display of distress and emotions on his friend’s face.

“Kuroo fuckings Tetsuro is what is wrong” he spat “He is a fuckings rude shit and apparently yes, our neighbour”

“You shitting with me?” Yamaguchi answered with a surprised voice, a shocked expression.

“Wish I was”

It took a couple of seconds before Yamaguchi spoke again, “Why do you dislike him so much anyway? Didn’t he help you in our freshman year?” 

“Not now Yamaguchi, not ever,” he said while thundering dramatically into his own bedroom, preparing in his mind to find rude comebacks to every sentence ever made or that could be made. And even if it was childish, even if he already had insulted it, he was going to start with that fucking pizza flavour of his. That Hawaiian pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess it didn't progress that much, but hey, I tagged it a slow burn


	4. Silence Speaks Louder Than Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The score is 2-2, the cafe meeting, the grocery store meeting and the sudden revelation that they were neighbour. Laying the ground for further interactions and competition. However, how will their relationship continue to evolve?

**Silence Speaks Louder Than Words**

**Tsukishima.**

“Tsukishima!”

Tsukishima was brutally forced out of his own thoughts as the girl shouted out his name and he looked sharply up from the bowl of noodles in front of him. Looking up at her with quickly recovering unfocused eyes. For the past couple of minutes, he had let his thoughts wander free, spinning his noodles around on the plate with his chopsticks in a mindless motion. Slipping slowly away from the conversation without noticing himself. What exactly he was thinking about he could no longer remember, as it was probably not that important. It was simply a habit of his when the conversation got dragged out to a point where he felt he had little more to contribute. A habit of a true introvert.

It was Thursday evening, and Tsukishima was eating dinner at a small, shabby Chinese place in the local Bunkyō area around the university with Yui. A cheap alternative for students that lacked the budget to eat at what one would maybe consider a proper restaurant. The place offered decent enough food for the expense of sitting in the most cliche like Chinese restaurant environment. The ceiling was covered with bright red paper lanterns with black calligraphy, browned hanging scrolls depicting some ancient wars in traditional Chinese painting style decorated the walls and the chairs were embroidered with native patterns in synthetic silk. The tacky style choice of it all was easy enough to disregard, except the chairs. The synthetic silk made the chairs so slippery that Tsukishima had to constantly rearrange himself on the chair not to simply slip off the material. At this point, It seemed easier to just give up and eat on the floor. 

While they were eating, he had been listening and giving small comments about Yui’s excitement about re-connecting with Ayako. Apparently, the two girl’s had texted a lot back and forth and had met several times during these last few weeks. Finding back to the friendship they had before Yui had to move from Tokyo all those years ago. 

She told him that, together they had decided that it was better to get to know each other again before scheduling a meeting between all four of them, before the double date. And that is why he had heard no further mention of the double date before today. Shattering his small, hopeful wish that the whole ordeal had been forgotten. That it simply had been a ridiculous idea at a moment of exciting reunion. 

Despite Tsukishima’s numerous protests on the subject during the meal, she would hear nothing against it. Without what she would label a ‘legitimate reason’ to cancel, she felt like he owed it to her to turn up. Owed it to her for all the times he had wiggled himself out of social arrangements where he would have to be introduced as her ass of a boyfriend. And as his protests fell to deaf ears, he had simply wandered off into his own thoughts.

Now, however, he was staring at her with a look that clearly told her that he had no idea about the current topic of conversation. Or even if the topic of conversation had changed at all.

“I asked you to actually give me one good reason to cancel besides ‘I don’t want to’?” she said, once again, as they were sitting and eating their respective Chinese dishes. She looked quizzingly at him, analyzing his reasons in his facial expressions. “Since sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to, especially if it makes others happy and it won’t hurt you.”

“I’ve told you before. He is a rude shit,” Tsukishima scoffed while consuming his sauce filled noodles, adjusting his seating as not to fall off. Uncomfortable with the chair, uncomfortable with the subject matter. 

“You are a rude shit. I don’t see the problem,” she shrugged with a small smile

“All the more reasons not to put us in the same room together.” 

“Look,” she said with a semi-serious face. “You knew him two years ago, knew who he was on the court. You do not know who he is today, who he is when you take away the net between you guys that further block your already narrow vision of the world.” Her eyes were daring him to come up with a good counter-argument.

“Tch,” he simply clicked his tongue and looked away. He had a million reasons to give her, but none that he was too willing to share. Not willing to share his inner insecurities when it came to the guy. Not willing to share that he would probably be an extra super dick around him because it felt good for his pride. Because of a childish challenge. 

Partly also, because he did not fully understand everything that went on inside of him when it came to the older guy.

“As I thought,” she said simply while shaking her head in a despairing manner, before adding sternly “And anyways, Ayako told me that Kuroo found out that you guys are neighbours. How weird is not that? And why did you not tell me? But the borderline is, you are going to live next to him for the time being and go to the same school as the guy - You make life even harder for yourself by hating the guy,”

Tsukishima cursed Kuroo under his breath. Why did he share the fact that they were neighbours to Ayako? Didn’t he realize that the fact would only give the girls all the more reasons to push forward the idea of a double date? He wanted the opportunity to have another well-prepared word battle with the older guy, to crush him, but that would be difficult in the presence of his probably then very irritated girlfriend. And he was willing to bet quite a lot on the fact that Ayako would be too. 

But he did not answer her. He felt like he had used up so much brain capacity these last few days to plan how to be clever with Kuroo, that he simply had no snark left for anybody else. So his best option for staying in control was to say nothing. The best way for his pride to stay intact. 

He followed her home after they had eaten, not really to make a romantic gesture but simply because he had learned from his mother that he should not let a girl walk home alone after dark. Some would call it outdated thinking, but it had stuck with him as a rule.

As the girl was walking into her building after arriving at the door, she halted her steps and turned towards him.

“I promised to call Ayako as soon as I came home after talking to you,” the girl said with a serious tone in her voice, looking him straight in the eyes, “We are probably going to decide on a date … so I’ll text you the details later. Make sure you are _available_ that day,” she said the last part in a playfully mocking tone, knowing perfectly well that there would be like 0 % chance of Tsukishima actually having other plans. But also knowing that some plans would magically appear if given the chance to escape. 

Fuck, he thought for probably the 10th time that last hour. 

There was no goodbye kiss, no lingering hugs, only a simple wave accompanied with a small smile. And Tsukishma started his walk back to his own apartment.

When he entered the elevator of his building, he was in a relatively bad mood. Simmering quietly by himself in the empty space surrounding him. As the doors were closing in front of him, a hand snuck in between the closing doors and a familiar but too abrupt to recognize voice had said, 

“Hey! Hold up!” 

Tsukishima had reluctantly pushed the ‘Open the door’ button for the man he had yet to place just based on the voice. Opting for being a good neighbour. He did not after all want to be a source for complaint, especially not when he was one to complain himself.

It was Kuroo that came into view when the doors opened once again, and he immediately regretted his decision to do so. Wished that he had just let the doors shut close in the face of the other man so he could inconvenience Kuroo a bit by making him wait for his turn in the elevator. A childish move indeed, but that could be said about their entire history of interactions since coming to Tokyo. 

He stood there, with his usual unruly hair which knew no laws of gravity, all messed up in a style that said, or at least tried to say, too much about his personality. That wide grin he wore radiated confidence, the conviction of his own good looks with the ladies. Tsukishima had to wonder where he got it all from, all that openness to show exactly what he thought of himself. His eyes started to wander lower, taking in the appearance of the guy so different to himself. He was all tan, sweaty and muscular in his work-out clothes under an open jacket which he had pulled down to his elbows. A pair of wide airy volleyball shorts, with a tight red singlet on top. His gym bag dangling casually from his left hand. All tan, sweat and muscular…. some details in which the bespectacled boy wished he had not just noticed. Did not understand why he just thought. It was natural to be jealous of other’s good features, but at the same time, this was not the situation to admire that in somebody in which he had such conflicted feelings against. Which he disliked. 

“Oh it’s you,” said Kuroo while wrinkling his nose, and stepped into the elevator.

There was an awkward silence. 

An awkward silence that laid heavily in the enclosed space and rendered it hard to swallow, hard to breathe. The surrounding tight metal walls only amplified the feeling of how every muscle seemed to tense up, how weird Tsukishima’s tongue suddenly felt in his mouth, dry and too large to be natural. Like the walls themselves were enclosing in on him and rendering him helplessly trapped in a most uncomfortable situation until a hopeful ‘ping’ sound would come to the rescue. 

Tsukishima was usually not one to mind the silence. He actually preferred it. The silence was comfortable, safe and predictable without any need for having to read between the lines or carefully consider his responses. He often felt that people have forgotten how to relate to silence. People get upset if nothing happens, restless, not taking the time to appreciate silence in these modern times of constant noise. Not understanding the joy of shutting the world out. The silence asks you to wonder, and the fear of silence is rooted, Tsukishima believed, in the fear of getting to know oneself better. To figure out who you are without the constant confirmation of others. As early as the 17th century, the philosopher Blaise Pascal wrote that people have in common that they are unable to sit still and do nothing, believing that, 

"… All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” 

And Tsukishima could relate to this thinking. 

However, being trapped in a slow-moving elevator alone with Kuroo Tetsuro made Tsukishima understand ever so slightly the uncomfortableness of silence. The old building had not updated its elevators since probably around the ’90s, and that could be easily detected from the painstakingly long time it took to get to one floor from another. It was like the universe just found more and more opportunities to make life difficult for the bespectacled boy. 

The silence created an inner war within him, a war between his need to insult the older, to feel the rush of winning one over him, and that the crushing feeling of speaking first would instantly make him the loser. At least if he could not find a sufficient reason to break the silence. He sincerely hoped the chatty guy would crack first under the pressure, make the first comment which could lay the ground for a smart comeback. 

It lasted probably not more than a couple of seconds, maybe even as much as a minute. But it felt like hours, days, weeks of suffocation. He could not take the electrifying tension in the enclosed space anymore. He carefully snuck a glance at the volleyball player next to him, cautious not to be spotted looking. Studying the features of his face for any sign of uncomfortableness, but the guy simply decided to fill the silence with carefree whistling. Like being stuck in an elevator with Tsukishima was of no big deal, like he was any other random occupant in this godforsaken building. It was infuriating. 

The details in which he got a slight glimpse of when the elevator first opened became even more noticeable. And the random idea that there may be something more beneath the silly hair and confident smiles left him feeling confused. But he had little time to figure out his own thoughts or continue mapping out the features of Kuroo that were previously hidden to him, previously gone unnoticed when Kuroo turned his head slightly around and his dark midnight eyes met Tsukishima’s own golden ones. His mouth spread out in a large smirk and his expression was clearly saying ‘caught you’.

“You can look, but you can’t touch,” Kuroo said jeeringly with a mockingly flirty wink. 

Tsukishima really tried. He really did try to stare back at him with either a dead-panned look or a disgusted face, but he was too taken aback by being caught staring. Too embarrassed. He had let the silence that usually was his comfortable escape get to him, it felt crushing, and it made him stare at the guy to fill the void with something. And he was caught. 

The realization of being caught doing something so unthinkable as staring at Kuroo made all his well-rehearsed shielding mechanism malfunction. His eyes went comically wide, as a deer caught in headlights, revealing shock and embarrassment. Exposing him. The only once before revealed pink blush crept back to his cheeks and nose against his will, but now it was more the shade of dark red than anything. Leaving him with his emotions clear as day to read on his features. How Kuroo could make all his efforts to build a perfect outer appearance crumble like nothing was beyond Tsukishima. Made no sense to him. Despite all his preparation, he was not prepared for this. 

Kuroo looked taken aback for a second, probably not expecting such an open expression on Tsukishima’s face, at least not so easily. He recovered quickly, however, and then proceeded to laugh out loud, mouth wide open. An annoying leer painted his face, so triumphant that Tsukishima wanted to punch the stupid look away. 

“I’m happy my good looks affect you so much. I feel bad for your girlfriend though, ” Kuroo choked out through his laugh and dried some amused tears with his index finger from the corner of his eyes. 

“You really have an inflated sense of self-worth,” Tsukishima spitted angrily out through his embarrassment, his words feeling heavy in his mouth. He stared quickly away, shielding his face to hide his emotions. Shielding his shame.

Kuroo clicked his tongue mockingly, “Try to wiggle out of the situation with fancy words all you want, but I’m not the one blushing.”

“I’m astounded by your standard of so-called ‘fancy words’,” Tsukishima bit back, and looked harshly back at Kuroo as his face calmed back from dark red to simple pink. 

“Well, I’m astounded by how cute you look when you blush,” he said unaffected by the younger boy’s attempt at steering the conversation back to comfortable grounds. It was clearly only a comment meant to tease him. It was clearly no truth in his words due to the mockingly flirty nature of his tone, but it horrified the younger boy nonetheless. How could he say such embarrassing things? He then decided that being called cute by Kuroo Tetsuro was the worst thing ever, the most embarrassing ever. Nothing like when Yamaguchi called him cute to mock him.

Kuroo then simply winked in a ridiculing manner as he exited the elevator first as the ‘ping’ signalled for 9th floor. 

Tsukishima was as a result left standing speechless. His dark red complexion back. But if it was from rage or from embarrassment was left unknown. He was so taken aback that he failed to notice that the door closed in front of him, and he was once again on his way back to the first floor. Forcing him to endure the ride back up again with a nameless neighbour while simmering with even further rage. Supplying Kuroo with an easy win. 

\----------

Tsukishima trampled loudly into his own apartment of 906 visibly fuming, steering straight towards their shared kitchen that was connected with the living room with an open floor plan. The kitchen was a cramped little space with only one counter space to actually make something. However, that one counter space was currently occupied by a microwave that accounted for the only type of cooking they had been doing since moving in. If you could call it that. Their ambitious plans for starting a healthier life by cooking more proper meals at home after they bought the new kitchen equipment at IKEA had failed quite terribly and remained a distant goal for maybe next year’s New Year. This year’s New Year's resolution was all about change and new chapters, about daring to have passion about the things he wants in his life. With the coming of a new semester and a new school, he dared to hope that he could actually achieve it. If only just a little bit. But right now, the only passion he could feel was the fact that he hated this situation with passion. 

Tsukishima went straight for the freezer stacked on top of the small out-dated fridge and pulled out a large pint of strawberry ice cream. He then proceeded to harshly open one of the kitchen cabinets to take out a spoon, slam it shut again, and stormed rather loudly into his room to be alone. Passing a surprised Yamaguchi that was watching videos on his laptop on the couch.

He felt a bit stupid for having to resort to dramatic escapes to his bedroom twice in such a short amount of time. Last time being after the short interaction in front of Kuroo’s door when he found out they were neighbours. He did however not know how else to deal with his emotions, the situation, everything that was going on right now. How else besides engulfing himself in the thick Winter duvet, covering himself only so his face and hands were sticking out while leaning his back against the wooden headboard. And this time, with strawberry ice cream to accompany him in his misery. Sighing loudly, he thought about the other two encounters he had with Kuroo since meeting twice last Friday.

They had run into each other twice in the hallway, despite not seeing each other for the first three weeks or so. The first meeting with Kuroo had happened just this Sunday, but most of it seemed like a dazed blur in his mind. They had only exchanged a few heated words, competition laced on each syllable and look. But despite the short conversation between them, Tsukishima had felt he left the conversation with the upper-hand, leaving with a simple nonchalant “Until next time”. 

On Tuesday he had met both Bokuto and Kuroo on their way back from ‘hanging with the gang’ as Bokuto had called it as Tsukishima was on his way out his front door to run some late-night errands. This exchange had held him up for about 15 minutes as Bokuto had gone on and on about how ‘amazing’ university life is, and how many ‘awesome’ friends he would meet. Always reassuring him that there are plenty of people interested in volleyball at the school, despite their ‘nerdy’ reputation. Adding that they should really make use of the few days left until school started to play volleyball together at the outside sports facilities at the university. At this suggestion, Tsukishima had to remind the excited guy that it was currently February and it was still minus degrees outside. 

Bokuto’s chattiness did, however, make it difficult to find much opportunity to start anything with Kuroo. Only allowing for some simple jabs regarding the oh so toxic masculinity the pair radiated. Which naturally fell off the former Fukurodani player's radar. During most of the conversation, they had just shared some telling glances. Leaving the meeting as a tie.

However, the silence between them spoke louder than any words could. The look in each other’s eyes, the impatient shuffling, the electrifying air made Tsukishima fully realize that this feeling of competition was mutual. The whole interaction acted like a silent agreement to what they were currently doing. The question then remained, who was best at throwing unsuspected comments, being most nonchalant at receiving them. But based on this elevator encounter, Kuroo was getting the hang of Tsukishima’s reactions and weak points far too easily. He was supposed to be a difficult puzzle, but Kuroo was apparently damn good at puzzles. He then promised for himself, that next time would be different. 

This left the score as 4-4, two wins each and two ties. 

After a good 3 minutes of reminiscence and self-pity partying with his ice cream, he heard a soft knock on his door.

“You ok?” sounded a play-pretend worried tone belonging to Yamaguchi outside his door.

“Fantastic,” grumbled Tsukishima back. There was a slight hesitant pause before Yamaguchi continued.

“Did you run into Kuroo?”

Tsukishima gulped. How did Yamaguchi know? He had not yelled Kuroo’s name in frustration as last time. He had been in the common space area no more than maybe one minute without saying absolutely anything. There was no way that he should know. And now it was Tsukishima’s turn to offer a short hesitant pause before speaking.

“Does the world revolve around Kuroo all of a sudden?” he answered with the most venomous tone he could muster, though it ended up sounding bitter more than anything else. 

“No, I didn’t say that. Just that….the look on your face is something I’ve only seen you with twice. The first time, when you came home from Coffee Bean two weeks ago after meeting Kuroo. The second time, last week when you found out that Kuroo was our neighbour. So yeah, this seems to be a weekly Kuroo thing for you,” Yamaguchi’s tone was trying to be considerate, but he simply could not hide the fact that he also found the whole ordeal a bit funny.

“Shut it, Yamaguchi,” 

“You know you are acting like a heartbroken teenager from one of our romance movies right? Ice cream pity party and everything,” Yamaguchi continued, now without even trying to conceal his amusement.

“A bit wishful thinking there addressing it as ‘our romance movies’,” he said sourly as a response, refusing to address the real topic of the conversation. He then took a large portion of strawberry flavoured ice cream and stuck it forcefully in his mouth, feeling even more sorry for himself now. Kuroo + a nosy Yamaguchi. 

Yamaguchi had maybe grown too much of a backbone these last 2 years, he thought to himself.

And what was worse, he could literally feel the carefully constructed walls surrounding him crack as if his years of hard work meant nothing to his self-defence. It was all so silly, such an inconsequential meeting. But apparently it was not. 

“So you are admitting to being heartbroken because of Kuroo?” Yamaguchi yapped back in a playful tone. Apparently having the time of his life torturing Tsukishima. This, however, made Tsukshima throw the blanket brutally off himself, stumble out of the bed and open the door swiftly with rage in his eyes. He knew that Yamaguchi did not actually believe he was in love with Kuroo, finding his whole overreaction simply funny. The thought of Tsukishima actually liking another boy unimaginable. But the comment still ignited his fury.

Yamaguchi took immediately a couple of steps back and put his hands up with the palms facing Tsukishima as to calm the storm that was Tsukishima’s rage.

“That was the last straw. You better run and hide very fuckings fast because I’m about to sacrifice my strawberry ice cream to places you rather not want ice cream,” he said with a most dangerous tone that showed how serious his threat really was. And Yamaguchi did not need to be told twice, he turned around on his heels and ran towards the front door. Quickly grabbing with him his shoes and coat. 

“I think I’ll be staying with Yachi tonight,” he shouted behind him as he slipped out the front door. 

As Tsukishima turned around to re-join his pity party after taking a deep breath to calm himself down, he could hear the voice of Yamaguchi slip out from the small glip of the door. And he did not like the tone of it, nor the shit that accompanied the tone.

“If Kuroo changes his mind, the place will be empty tonight,”

The door was properly closed again before Tsukishima could commit the murder he was willing to spend the rest of his life in jail for, and he could hear the annoyingly smug laugh of Yamaguchi slowly fade as he most likely ran towards the stairs. Not risking waiting for the elevator. 

Ten minutes later, he got a message.

**From Yui (9:30):** Saturday, 6 o’clock! Be there or face the consequences. 

\-----

**Kuroo.**

It was Saturday. A conflicting Saturday offering both positive and negative connotations at the same time. This day, in particular, held the heavy realization that school was once again approaching. Only two days left of euphoric freedom, of late-night adventures, of lazy sleep in days of no worries. The start of the school term came always with the promise of stress, diligence and focus. But beyond anything, it was a promise of long hours of sitting down in class, at the library, anywhere that offered an empty seat to study. An action not really suiting Kuroo’s restless body. He felt his legs started to jitter simply at the thought of sitting for such an extensive amount of time. 

The start of the school term came also with the promise of the start of the volleyball season. This thought alone was a heavy contributor to the positive connotations connected to this day. The thought of standing on the court again, feeling the rush of adrenaline, the electrifying chemistry, the ache in his muscles, the closeness of comradery. It was all dearly missed by the volleyball player. The loss of his regular practice routine had acted as a deep gnawing sensation in his stomach the whole vacation, making him restless and leaving him feeling unnecessary useless. It wasn’t as he had not had the opportunity to practice at all during the two months vacation. The player’s that had not left the province for home visits had gotten together almost regularly, or at least whenever the university allowed them to use the indoor facilities, to play and make sure they did not grow rusty for the new season. But it was simply not the same. It lacked the seriousness, the strive to see them all work together like well-oiled machinery for the upcoming matches. They fooled around more than anything, took unnecessary long breaks just to chat and the absence of upcoming competitions lulled them into a false sense of security, lacked the urgency to ignite the fire within them. And it was particularly this fire he missed.

But at the forefront of his mind was this day’s particular activity. The double date. He dreaded the possible awkward silences, the restrictions the presence of the girls would constitute as, the longevity of it all….he dreaded losing. He had not spent more than some few minutes in the presence of the younger boy since their High School days at the volleyball court. Always just an accidental meeting since. Now it was scheduled, and he did not know how this new form of interaction would affect their communication. How it would affect everything. 

However, he looked forward to having the opportunity to weed out some more of the carefully hidden emotions behind Tsukishima’s mask. It was fascinating, almost addicting. It was the same kind of rush he felt when the ball was, as in slow motion, falling on the opposition’s side of the court at match point. When they were sure there was no way for the players to reach it in time, the victory secured. Because when that careful blush transfigured into shades of dark red hues, he knew the younger boy was beaten. 

But at the same time, it was completely different. The ball, the match, the victory at the court left nothing unanswered, made sense, was logical. While so much of the interaction between himself and Tsukishima led to more questions than answers, made no sense, was anything but logical. There were a million rude people in the world - yet there was no one that stirred up so many emotions in him as Tsukishima. Emotions from strong dislike to fascination, heat, confusion. Last time, he had even found Tsukishima cute in his vulnerable form, uttering those words in the most mocking tone to conceal his own confusion. It was not natural thoughts to have in regards to another guy, but he convinced himself to blame it on his brain simply malfunctioning from the unusual sight.

Or he blamed it on his sexual frustration. A sexual frustration that was so severe these days that he got dirty thoughts from looking at a ceiling lamp that resembled an ass in shape. He felt fourteen years old again, a time when his testosterone levels had just started to peak, a time when he got a minimum of 6 boners a day. Just...minus the boners and triple the frustration. Yet he could not satisfy his frustration in any other way aside from late-night pleasure time by himself, and this despite having a girlfriend. If he could just get over his problem as fast as fucking possible, he could go back to not being frustrated. To not thinking Tsukishima was cute when covered in embarrassment with surprised eyes of liquid gold and sweet honey. From an outside perspective, this second justification would maybe make no sense whatsoever. But who said the human mind makes sense?

Kuroo was simply staring out into nothingness, splayed out on the couch as the time was ticking by. He should probably already have started to get ready, considering how much time he usually spent getting ready. But that meant having to lift his butt up from the comfortableness of the couch that hugged him soothingly. Having to face the fact that this was actually happening. 

The girls had made a clear schedule they were to follow, all in order for the evening to go as smooth as possible. Or rather, to avoid conflict between himself and Tsukishima. The first checkmark on the list was the bowling alley then followed by a dinner. Ayako had explained this decision by saying,

“You know, so you guys can get used to each other before having to sit down and talk,”

Personally, Kuroo was not sure if that was even possible. Getting used to Tsukishima’s presence that is. But he guessed he was willing to try. It was not normal for him to hold grudges, to be on the wrong side of anyone or acting rudely towards anybody. Not that he actually had been directly rude to the younger boy, leaning more towards teasing him for his pompous and unpleasant manner than being rude. But still, it was not like him. Maybe forcing them into a new environment was exactly what they needed to put the past behind them and stop this ridiculous power play? On the other hand, he was so damn curious to peel off more layers of Tsukishima’s defences. 

“Hey hey hey,” sounded Bokuto’s loud and sudden voice from behind him as he entered through the front door. The sound startled him from where he was laying, and his hand flew towards his chest as a reflex to the surprise. His heart beating almost out of his ribcage.

“Fuck man, you startled the shit out of me,” said Kuroo in an almost breathless manner. He turned his head around to look at his roommate, taking a deep breath. “Thought you were out eating a late lunch with Akaashi after work?”

“Oh, sorry about that bro,” Bokuto answered, and he actually looked guilty. “I was, it’s 4:30.”

“Oh shit, I should really start to get ready,” he answered with slight panic decorating his features. “Ayako is not gonna be happy if I’m late to this particular meeting.” Not wanting to keep company with an angry girlfriend in addition to a sour-faced Tsukishima. True, she was unnecessary forgiving but he had an inkling that today would be different.

“Oh yeah that’s right, today is the day you are going on a date with Tsukishima,” Bokuto said while his eyes lit up in realization, his right hand closed into a fist that bumped lightly into the palm of his left hand.

Kuroo’s nose wrinkled up at the word choice of his best friend. Date with Tsukishima? Nothing about that sentence sounded even remotely close to making any sense. The words sent his mind on an involuntary trip to an imagined setting where he and Tsukishima were sitting at a romantic candlelit restaurant together, smiling flirtingly at each other while their hands were connected between them. He shivered at the thought. Too weird to explore any further. 

“Bro! That’s one hella weird way to phrase it. Don’t put strange images in my head,” he complained in a whiny sort of noise. 

“Makes for an interesting picture, doesn't it?” Bokuto answered ponderingly, tapping his finger on his cheek and looked up in an unfocused manner as if he was trying to imagine it. Then burst out laughing, probably finding the thought of it ridiculous. 

“I would call it horrifying before interesting,” he grumbled as he pushed himself off the couch, his body silently protesting against the sudden movement. His blood-pressure fell quickly as he stood up too fast, orthostatic hypotension kicking in and he felt suddenly dizzy and his vision went black. Fuck, Kuroo thought as he leant towards the couch and stabilized himself at the couch arm until his vision returned and the dizziness gone. 

“You ok there buddy?” Bokuto asked.

“Yeah yeah, just stood up too quickly. Or more likely, the nature of your comment made me sick,” he grumbled as he straightened up. “Gotta get ready,”

\-----

After going through his usual getting-ready routine in the bathroom, his body clean, his hair fixed and even some cologne was thrown into the normal mix, he was standing only in his underwear in front of the full-length mirror on his wardrobe. He was usually not the kind of guy that spent time contemplating what he should wear. In fact, most guys didn't. They simply put on the first thing that smelled clean enough to pass and went on with their day. But today, he was indecisive. He didn’t want to look as if he had made an effort like this meeting was something to dress up for. On the other hand, a shabby look was an easy way to make sure that Tsukishima would look down at him.

Opening the door next to the mirror, he scanned meticulously the clothes in front of him and started trying out several different options. Like he was a girl getting ready for her first date. Shifting his mind away from that thought, he changed out of his dress shirt and black jeans option, feeling too formal, and into a tight-fitted black long-sleeve t-shirt and some light washed jeans. Looking himself up and down in the mirror, he had to admit he looked damn good and appropriate for bowling. Feeling happy with the outcome, he put on his outerwear and picked up his keys, flinging them around his index finger nonchalantly and shouted a quick bye to his roommate. Getting an amused “Have fun!” as a response. 

It was a thirty minutes walk to the designated bowling alley. His body screamed loudly in protest to the icy cold February, almost March weather despite his warm Winter coat. It had snowed ever so slightly earlier that same day, and now laid as the thinnest little veil on the ground. His boots created a whisper of footprints giving evidence to where he had been walking, giving hints as to where he was going. 

“Kuroo!” shouted Ayako while waving her arm over her head, waiting for him outside her apartment. 

Her apartment complex laid some 20 minutes away from his own by foot and was located only a short detour on his way to the bowling alley. Approaching her, he said

“Did you wait long?”

“No, I just came out,” she said gently while shaking her head, her blonde locks bouncing lightly in the cold breeze. She was so pretty, yet it was empty inside him. 

He offered her his elbow, in which she grabbed with her delicate fingers and fell in steps with him towards their destination. They had only walked a couple of minutes, exchanged some few unrememberable words before she turned towards him and looked at him with pleading eyes.

“You will behave, won’t you? I know you are not the biggest fan of Tsukishima, but I really want this to be a good thing,” she said with a small voice, almost as she was fearing a negative response.

“I’ll...I’ll try my best, I promise,” Kuroo sighed quietly. Legitimately wondering how he could possibly keep that promise. She seemed happy nonetheless and continued to chat about small things as they approached the bowling alley. Coming closer, he spotted Yui and Tsukishima already waiting for them. 

Yui radiated happiness, like the sun was sending out particularly strong beams that rendered the viewer blinded by the brightness of it all. She waved at them, her smile stretched wide and her wild hair was even wilder than last time, like the weather had stormed through it like a hurricane. 

In the case of Tsukishima, he complimented the meaning of his name perfectly. Moon island. The meaning of his name made him think of a poem he read in a class all the way back in high school. 

_Every human being, in their own sense, is an island. As is well known, we need bridges. Infinitely many bridges to connect us together where we float alone on the sea. Bridges of words, expressions and body language._

The boy with the cold exterior in front of him, however, seemed to have forgotten how to build bridges, forgotten the thoroughly indoctrinated architectural skills. Or simply preferred not to build at all. Keeping himself floated as an isolated island that no one dared approach, lonely like the moon itself.

Kuroo halted himself in his own thought process, impressed but at the same time confused due to his own poeticness. Being usually one to describe things as just … things. Calling spade a spade. Not lazing his thoughts with metaphors or simile or what the poetic bullshit he had just thought could be called. If Tsukishima was an island, he would be a shitty one. 

There, that’s more like me, he thought for himself.

There was no more time for weird inner monologues as they had now approached the pair. There existed an inner urge to just stand there awkwardly, shuffling his feet and looking anywhere other than Tsukishima as the two girls were embracing each other. However, he promised that he would try, and he also had no intention of seeming weak in front of the other, so he slapped on a wide smirk and looked at the couple in front of him composedly. 

“Hey guys,” he said in what he hoped was a cool tone, giving a swift wave with his hand. 

Ayako answered back with a simple “Hey hey”, and elbowed her boyfriend in the ribs as he seemingly did not intend to say anything.

“Heilo,” uttered Tsukishima after being physically forced to say something. It seemed however like he changed his mind mid-word, as he was conflicted between saying ‘Hello’ and ‘Hi’, ending with ‘Heilo’ as an awkward middle ground. And if that in itself was not amusing enough, the boy swiftly turned around in response to his mistake, muttering “I’ll wait inside” and entered the front doors of the bowling alley without waiting for anybody to follow him. Probably flustered. Probably looking cuu~ nope, not going there.

His girlfriend looked after him, sighing loudly. 

“He’ll warm up.” 

“Oh he’s shy!” cooed Ayako, looking sweetly after the other boy as well. 

“Shh, don’t let him hear you say that,” Ayako said with a slight giggle in her tone.

“Are we going to bowl or just keep standing here cooing over Tsukishima?” Kuroo asked, though he did not wait for a response before he took hold of Ayako’s upper arm and pulled her along with him inside. 

The bowling alley in which the girl’s had picked out had gone for a retro, 50’s style interior design. The walls were painted in a shockingly bright mint colour, painted with giant-sized red and white pins and otherwise black checker patterns. There were also multiple old-style Coca-Cola advertisement posters hanging around, making sure to let the customer’s know that you would not be able to purchase Pepsi at this establishment. Additionally, there was a multicoloured jukebox that emitted rainbow coloured light stacked by the wall, filling the place with funky music, and the Coca-Cola red faux-leather chairs were closely hooped together in front of all the individual lanes. The man by the counter was dressed in a red, white and blue striped ice cream parlour look-alike uniform which matched the era, and by the look on his face, he was not particularly happy about it.

Tsukishima was waiting patiently next to the counter with a matching unhappy face, but had obviously had time to calm down from his previous blunder. They fell in next to him, and Yui leaned towards Tsukishima and whispered loudly enough for him to hear next to her,

“Try looking like you are not constantly smelling shit, will you?”

He had to stifle a short laugh at the comment. She then turned quickly around from scolding the boy, clapping her hands together with her big smile back on her features.

“Ok so, what are we thinking?” she asked brightly.

“I dunno, bowling?” Kuroo answered with the smallest hint of a sarcastic voice. Earning a sharp look from his girlfriend next to him. 

“Duuh, I meant how many rounds,” she said unaffected, simply rolling her eyes.

“How about two? First couple against couple, then guys vs girls! How about it?” Ayako suggested excitedly, basically vibrating from anticipation. 

“Genius!” Yui said at the same time both of the boys protested in unison, “No way!”

“I mean...yeaay,” Kuroo corrected himself as he saw the heartbroken look on his girlfriend.

I did promise to try, he reminded himself. Though his ‘yeay’ did not actually sound all that sincere. 

“Fine,” Tsukishima muttered, probably because his girlfriend was looking at him with murder in her eyes.

The first set was won by the Tsukishima x Yui couple by a mile. Both of them were fairly athletic, and he had learned from the casual chat between them that she had been in the basketball club during her High School years. Ayako on her side rarely did anything sporty besides working at a sports store and running on a treadmill a couple of times a week, terrified of gaining any muscle. Which probably was a huge contributor to their loss. 

The loss in itself was of no big deal, but the fact that Tsukishima had gained more individual points than he had was. Him that had stood superior next to Tsukishima on the court and taught him how to improve his volleyball skills, had lost in something that was considered a sport. He knew very well that volleyball skills could not really be directly translated into bowling skills, but all the same. The sports guy in him made him a sore loser. 

And Tsukishima had looked at him with the most triumphant smile, mouthing “pathetic” silently at him as he had in his dreams. But at the same time, the way in which he had mouthed it was not like in his dream...it was completely different. In fact, the whole aura around them had been different throughout the game. Like… normal competitiveness. 

“Good game, but you will be crushed in the next round!” Kuroo said, trying to not sound like a sore loser and pointed his finger at Yui. Challenging her simply because it was easier to deal with. 

“Already admitting defeat by me for next round huh?” Tsukishima asked amusedly while smirking. 

“Same team remember?” Kuroo answered, winking at him.

“Individual points remember?” Tsukishima jabbed back. 

“You are so on!” 

“Can’t wait,”

Yes, there was indeed something very different in the air between them. Something in which he could not properly put his fingers on, but was still so easy to pick up on even just from those few exchanged sentences. Because the whole game in itself had been different, lacking the usual toxic negativity. Sure, it was a game of insults. But it was like having an actual, physical game as a buffer between them ignited a challenge that was maybe more...normal, more playful? rather than cruel. Like the words, the looks, the undertones lacked the usual condescending fire. Like they were teammates, jabbing jokingly at each other after a practice match within the team itself. It was a weird feeling, but not altogether bad. The change was just unexpected, puzzling. 

“We are just going to the toilet! Don’t start the second round without us,” Ayako suddenly announced, dragging the other girl with her.

“Why are always girls going to the bathroom together? What are they even doing in there?” Kuroo thought out loud to no one in particular after the girls had left, just airing a thought that had puzzled him several times.

“You are asking me?” Tsukishima deadpanned, though not maliciously and lifted one of his eyebrows as in question. Kuroo could also swear that the younger boy seemed a bit taken aback for a second. Probably a bit startled by the normality of the question. 

“Oh, was that a normal response I just heard?” Kuroo asked with the largest smug grin on his face.

Tsukishima simply shrugged, polishing his preferred bowling ball currently on his lap with the rug that had laid next to the ball machine. 

“I’m not a wizard. Can’t just magically make a word-battle out of something so terribly mundane,” answered Tsukishima, rolling his eyes.

“Oh hoho, so you do admit to being in a word battle with me?” the older boy exclaimed, surprised by the honesty offered.

“Duh,” said the boy as if such knowledge was common sense, rolling his eyes sassily. “Though your limited vocabulary does not make it much of a word battle per se.”

“Cuz ‘heilo’ is such a formidable use of proper language?” Kuroo answered back teasingly, cocking his head while looking towards Tsukishima. Being almost sure that he had used the word formidable correctly.

“Touché,” Tsukishima sniggered. A reminiscence of their first meeting. 

It was all becoming very overwhelming for Kuroo. For one thing, having the word battle out there in the open, admitted out loud, made the whole thing… just so weird. Sounding even more silly than when it only existed in his head. And just the whole way in which this revelation had come about. Like they had just hit the pause in the middle of their personal game, entering into a weird grey area between them where it existed some form of normality. It was not like they were nice to each other, but the words seem more...yes playful than anything. 

And then there was Tsukishima in himself. In one moment he hates him, then he blushes, back to hate and now he is… unaffected and playful. If his emotions were anything near the same as his own, then all of this made no sense. But at the same time, he himself was acting the same way. In the moment of their first meeting he really despised the guy, then he had been embarrassed by him in the grocery store, then he had mockingly teased him… found him cuu~ ok to look at, then he started to get some unknown poetic talent and now he was being playful. He could really not say that he had come to a point of liking the guy, but things had definitely changed. Even though he had not come to realize it himself before now.

“Ready boys?” Yui asked as she slipped back into their designated area, arms linked with Ayako’s and plopped down on the opposite side of which she previously had sat when playing on a team with Tsukishima.

“Ready Tsukki?” Kuroo asked clearly pumped, shadow boxing energetically into thin air.

“Don’t call me that,” Tsukishima answered prissily, though he still stood up with his ball ready in his arms and eyes of pin-pointed victory. 

Watching Tsukishima as he elegantly twisted his body in a perfect position, applying the perfect speed, to achieve a strike for their common team was fascinating. The thought of having him on his team was beyond interesting. Their own personal game was still set on pause in spite of being in the middle of an actual game. A game that upfront would actually tell them who was the winner, yet it seemed irrelevant. He had often described the tension between them as electrifying, but this electrifying air was of the same nature as when he was on the court with his teammates. Yet also a bit different? Though he decided on not exploring that thought much further as this whole conundrum was impossible to understand just on a surface level in itself. 

“I’m sorry to say this Ayako, but you really suck,” laughed Yui as Ayako once again managed to only take down one pin. Instead of getting offended at the comment, Ayako simply laughed with her friend, shaking her head in amusement.

“Truer words have never been said,” she hiccuped through her laugh, finding her third 1-pin turn kinda hilarious. 

“You have at least not hit the gutter like Kuroo-san here,” Tsukishima said amusedly, clearly playfully mocking the older guy. Their game still in the state of a weird pause.

“SHE HAS FENCES!” Kuroo shrieked in disbelief at being called out in such a manner.

Tsukishima simply shrugged with a teasing grin, “So? You did hit the gutter. Fences are optional. You should have accepted the fences when offered to you”. 

“You are so dead,” Kuroo laughed back.

Tsukishima only winked one eye towards him, and then proceeded to take his trusted bowling ball from the machine and took the last winning shot for their team. 

Sass completely forgotten at the heat of their win, they turned towards each other triumphantly as if ready to give each other a high-five. Hands midway up in the air and some steps were taken to minimize the distance between them. Halfway through the steps necessary to make the high-five, they suddenly remembered however that such actions were not yet within their level of comfortableness. Halting their motions, and opted instead for shuffling awkwardly at the action. 

“They are so cute, aren’t they?” Ayako said with an adoring smile, staring lovingly at them. Seemingly having the time of her life together with them all at this moment.

“Couldn't agree more,” Yui giggled back. 

These words, however, shattered the spell that was the pause button between them. Bringing them all the way back to square one. Back to that day of the first meeting. The words made them realize what they were doing, forcing them out of the heavy fog that had clouded their usual tension. Their usual dislike. Pushed the play-button with rapid speed. Though things had admittedly changed since that time, some thoughts had changed, it was like their small progress was rendered useless. Their insecurities, their unanswered questions too big to deal with something so simple as being recognized as cute at that moment. That they were cute together. They both had noticed it, he could see it in Tsukishima’s body language. He went all rigid, stiff, and his expression contorted back into a stern guard. 

“Seems like you lost again Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima said, now looking condescendingly down at Kuroo, all smug with his armour tucked tightly around him again. Pointing casually at the scoreboard.  
\----

The dinner atmosphere was heavy. Like a heavy storm was thundering down on the occupants inhabiting the small booth at the dining pub next to the bowling alley. Drenching them in thick weighty rain, with next to no chances of sun. The girls, however, seemed oblivious to the change between the two boys. Wrapped in their own fantasy world of finding back to their friendship and the idea of the ideal and faultless double date they had so longed for. Chatting away idly, mostly by themselves. Tsukishima and Kuroo on their end tried to focus mainly on the food and the alcoholic beverages in front of them. 

“Yeah, I decided to study mechanical engineering after reading up about it in High School. It seemed so fascinating how you can just get a deeper understanding of so many different types of processes. How the world view of many that study that field seemed to change as they understood all the math that is required to understand it all,” Yui explained dreamily, resting her head on her palm and looking content out in the air. “At first I wanted to study international law with Tsukishima, but when I found mechanical engineering … everything changed.”

“Oh wow! That is such an admirable reason to pursue something,” Yui answered in awe, adding in the same dreamily manner, “I just love kids, so my dream is to be able to be a good role model for them. Teach them what I know, teach them to be good people. So that is why I decided to do an education major.”

This information was, in fact, new to Kuroo, having never bothered to actually ask why she studied what she studied. The fact did, however, make his stomach turn uncomfortably. Did that mean that Ayako wished to have her own kids? Their kids? That had always seemed like a such ‘in the future’ idea, so distant from his current reality that he had not even bothered to make a casual stance on the subject. But now this reality hit him straight in the face, forcing him to think of it. And he did not like the thought at all. But whether it was kids in general or kids with Ayako that bothered him, he had no time to ponder upon as Yui turned questingly towards him. 

“What about you Kuroo-san? What are you studying? I think Ayako mentioned it in passing but I don’t remember, sorry.”

He put down the glass of beer he was drinking on the table in front of him, scratching himself on the back of his head. “Uhm.. I study exercise and sports science. I also took a sports massage diploma last semester, and I only need to practice on a certain amount of people before it is official,” said Kuroo, his mood lifting. The opportunity to talk about his passion, and take his attention off babies and Tsukishima was well appreciated. 

“On athletes or does anybody do?” Ayako questioned him.

“It does not need to be athletes … but they need to be fairy active within high-intensity sports,” he said, now grinning lightly. 

“Oh! I’m sure Tsukishima would not mind if you practised on him! He tries to hide it, but he actually practices really hard, telling me he is out doing _errands_ ,” she exclaimed, doing air quotes as she said errands. 

Tsukishima wrinkled his nose in a look of utter disgust and disbelief, saying sharply

“I think you should reevaluate your definition of sure Ayako, because like hell I wouldn't mind it,” 

It was not like Kuroo himself wanted to actually give Tsukishima a massage, but the way in which he had spoken irritated Kuroo immensely. Kuroo did, however, not want to ruin the mood by going back to the thought of the annoying presence that was Tsukishima. Or by entering into an imagined reality in his brain where he was giving Tsukishima a massage on those oh so long, fit legs of his. All the way up to the milky white calv-

“I’m sure I’ll find enough people soon,” Kuroo said to stop his imaginative mind that refused to cooperate with his will. “I want to be an exercise physolologolist, and at the same time have the opportunity to be a sports massage person if I have a hard time finding a job within my preferred field,” he continued, stumbling quickly over the complicated word he had yet to learn how to pronounce. Hoping that nobody would notice.

He could see from his side view that Tsukishima looked at him as if he was stupid. Brows furrowing. And the words following, made him also _feel_ immensely stupid. 

“Kuroo-san, are you really sitting here and telling me that you have studied your field for two years.. and you don't even know that it is called an exercise physiologist and a sports masseur?” 

That comment alone made him sure that the score after today would be 5-4 to Tsukishima. No matter what happened later. And he was sure as hell that this time, it was him that was blushing. 

"Who's the one blushing now, huh?" Tsukishima snickered.

“Now now, don’t be mean,” Yui scolded, hitting her boyfriend at the upper arm area. 

“I’m simply stating the obvious Yui,” Tsukishima offered offhandedly, shrugging. Not seeming to mind the punch. 

“Uhm.. so I noticed that you are calling Yui by her personal name Tsukishima, but Yui calls you by your family name,” Ayako said, phrasing it more like a question. The way she said it, however, made it clear to Kuroo that she was only trying to steer the conversation back on safe grounds. However, she suddenly shot her hands up in the air, shaking them and her head furiously. Looking almost panicked, “I-I’m not trying to say it’s weird or anything, I promise! It’s the same with me and Kuroo, but that’s because he is one year older than me. But you guys are the same age so… I just wondered.” She looked back down at the table, tracing small circles with her finger on the wooden surface. 

“She refuses to be called by her family name by her boyfriend. I refuse to be called by my personal name by anybody,” he offered as a response with an irritating offhandedness while cutting the food in front of him.

“I know you are my boyfriend, but it is so weird hearing you say that. Can’t even remember you ever saying it,” Ayako laughed.

“You are such an ice princess Tsukki, even towards your own girlfriend,” Kuroo shot in jeeringly, finding an opening to try to turn the conversation around in his favour. 

“Don’t call me Tsukki,” the younger boy bit back

“It’s your family name, only shorter. Seems fair to call you that,”

“I can’t seem to remember that I added a ‘nicknames allowed’ clause to my previous statement,” 

“My my Tsukki, I thought you were going to study international law? By law, if there is no explicit restriction, the individual has the right to act as they please,” Kuroo said. Now with the biggest smirk painting his face as he felt the conversation was back to comfortable grounds. To be fair, he only came over that fact as he and Bokuto were planning to do a particularly daring public prank and needed to know exactly this particular piece of information. The fact that it was relevant to international law was simply an added note at the end of the information he read. 

“Last time I checked, we are individuals under state authority, not a sovereign state, thus international law does not apply,” Tsukishima said as if Kuroo’s last statement did not impact or impress him the slightest. “And anyway, that statement is simply an invalid argument with a false conclusion. I’m sure you've learned about that in High School.”

Kuroo was now one hundred per cent certain that his previous thoughts about Tsukishima being cute were simply some moments of severe delirium. Because the boy in front of him was anything but cute. But he needed to keep his smug smile as if nothing had happened because he didn’t think he could bear the thought of the guy knowing how much he affected him. Though he had a feeling the younger boy knew to a certain extent from the remaining tint of a blush covering his face. 

“I’m certain there is also no actual law that forbids nicknames, so it seems we are at a stalemate _Tsukki_.”

“If I hear one more poisonous word from either the two of you, I’m dunking our beers on you, taking your coats at the front doors and leaving! Then you can walk home all wet without your coats in minus degrees,” Yui said with such dangerous levels of anger and seriousness that both boys took their heated glances away from each other and shut their mouths. 

They were now back to the start. The dinner atmosphere was heavy. Like a heavy storm was thundering down on the occupants inhabiting the small booth at the dining pub. And the girls were chatting away as if nothing ever happened. The silence between the boys speaking louder than any words could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that it took me over a week to update. I've been a bit sick, and in addition, I just never got happy with what I was writing. I tried to cram so much stuff in just one chapter that some parts may have felt rushed. Soo, if there is something that needs explanation, just let me know and I'll try to add some needed stuff. 
> 
> Hopefully, I made up for the lateness by giving you a 10300-word chapter.


	5. Volleyball Idiots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long waiting time, so I'm basically giving you 2 chapters.

**Volleyball Idiots**

**Tsukishima.**

During these last three weeks or so, Tsukishima had really learned to dread Monday mornings. Not due to the standard emotional shift which usually accompanies the transition between Sunday and Monday. Where the joy of a Sunday spent in relaxed bliss is normally immediately contrasted with the need to wake up early to battle the upcoming day of school or work. Tsukishima had never really minded waking up early, nor the opportunity to receive some intellectual stimulation in which school offered. 

He had, however, discovered that all types of intellectual stimulation were not to his liking. 9 a.m ‘Maritime Law and the Law of the Sea’ class was one such example. Not only because he found the subject of Maritime Law inferior to other, in his humble opinion, more important aspects of international law. Like Commercial Law, the Law of War or Criminal Law.

But also because the administrative office had come up with this brilliant idea of hiring this old fossil of a man to teach a subject in a language he clearly did not master. Tsukishima had to give credit where credit is due, the man obviously was an expert on the subject, but teaching an advanced class in English when he clearly lacked the proficiency skills to do so was exhausting to listen to. Forcing him to focus so much on the pronunciation of each individual word that the whole meaning of the sentence became lost to him, forgotten. It also did not help that the man was sitting at one of the student desks instead of standing and was simply reading his prepared script in a monotone voice the whole class. Rendering the whole class into a sleepy hell, so desperate to try to stay awake that some of the students had started to take with them three cups of coffee to class already after the first week.

Despite Tsukishima’s diligent nature, he could not escape the drowsiness that came with listening to the never-ending monologues of his teacher. Going on and on about exclusive economic zones, territorial waters, continental shelves and baseline markers, and how these terms are all related to the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea. More effective in putting somebody to bed than a lullaby could ever achieve. This is how Tsukishima came to discover his third reason for not being particularly fond of Monday mornings. 

While struggling to keep his eyes open already in the second week of the year, he had opted for looking out the window to find something to entertain his mind for a couple of minutes in order to wake up. He had been gazing out into the peaceful square, the early nature of the day left it quiet and almost peaceful. Standing in stark contrast to the usual crowdedness of it. Between classes and during lunchtime, there were generally a myriad of students crowding together on the different installations despite the cold. The smokers were gone from the designated smoking-area installed under an open-spaced station, and the girls with Starbucks lattes that usually occupied the metal benches were nowhere to be seen. 

What he could spot, however, was Kuroo and Bokuto making use of the empty morning space to do stretches. Defying the icy weather in their almost non-existent work-out clothes, displaying more skin than what was covered. Muscles flexing and stretching, preparing for their self-scheduled morning run. Tsukishima guessed they had been lucky enough to have snatched afternoon classes. Sitting like this and staring at the pair had become somewhat of a habit, and it was especially that sun-kissed skin of smooth caramel painting Kuroo’s skin that kept his attention. A colour in which made the muscles just all the more visible, more prominent. Tsukishima was following the movement of them like in trance, his mind flowing further and further from the topic at hand. Like he was taking advantage of the freedom of the high seas, sailing far away with his thoughts from territorial waters where countries had sovereign control, his class where the teacher had sovereign control. It was like no matter what he did, Kuroo was not far away from his field of view. 

It had been three weeks and two days since he last spoke to Kuroo. Three weeks and two days of absolute silence. Since the day where the catastrophe of a double-date had taken place. At the time, he had been happy for the fact that he had been able to keep his promise to himself. The promise of not losing himself to involuntary bodily reactions. Those godforsaken reactions that seemed to defy the law of Tsukishima whenever the older boy opened his shitty, smirking mouth. In fact, It was actually Kuroo that had lost his control for a few heated minutes, his turn to feel the heat of mortification rise and consume him. His turn to display those vulnerable feelings on his face which were open for anybody to read and analyze. But contrary to his initial belief, it did not give him that boost of pride he always longed for when he stood face to face with Kuroo. Not the feeling of superiority despite acting as it did. 

It made the pit of his stomach do an acrobatic flip, a dive from his tightened ribcage to the pit of his gut. Making him confused and questioning whether he was getting sick from the cold weather. But as fast as the blush faded and was replaced with fire igniting words, he soon forgot about it altogether. At least until his bed-time reflection time. Until the emptiness in which engulfed him with a concrete silence made it impossible to suppress those thoughts of confusion, of Kuroo, in which were fighting to win thinking time. Those thoughts that were begging him to give him an answer as to why the older guy affected him so much. Why he was constantly fighting battles with Kuroo, with himself really, when he was there. But as one late-night pondering turned into several days of internal battles between wanting answers and wanting nothing to do with them, he was left none the wiser. Refusing anything that was even close to making sense. Because what could make sense made no sense. 

If that one incident alone was not enough to make him confused, it was also that one hour of normality. An hour where they forgot everything that had happened between them, rendering them to simple young volleyball idiots which brought the competition out of the court to a ridiculous game of bowling. Like any other young idiotic guys out there. Like they did not dislike each other. It had all felt so natural, so effortless in that very moment that reality had to harshly hit him in the head by the girls for him to realize the ridiculousness, the weirdness that was that hour. That one hour that seemed taken out of somebody else’s life, the story of somebody else. But yet he could also not deny that it happened. 

But when the temporary spell broke, they were back to square one. And when he came home later that night, he felt like the whole incident had moved them even further back, to square minus one. Because now they were not even talking to each other. Every brush in the hallway, in the elevator, in the streets, in school were merely brushes of silent encounters. Not even acknowledging the existence of the other. Now that school had started, they were seeing quite a lot of each other. But that was it, seeing, looking when the other part was not. Never talking, less aware and at the same more aware of each other than ever. More aware because they never stopped looking, but at the same time less aware that they were looking. 

Like they were waiting for one of them to say something, anything, to bring everything back on comfortable grounds. To the familiarity of poisonous competition. It was like the world was holding its breath, aching to let the air out. Why Tsukishima wanted Kuroo to say something again had been added to the long, ever-growing list of things Tsukishima did not understand nor wanted to understand. 

This was what he wanted all along, what he wanted when he came here. The silence. And right now, he could not even blame the want on his swelling pride, as the last conversation left him with nothing but emptiness and unwanted questions. So why was he looking, waiting? Why was his gaze unconsciously following the boy until the reality of his actions swept over him?

Despite the lack of answers, it did explain the fact that staring at him in such an arguably inappropriate manner did not even register in his own brain, looking had become so natural, until the departure of the pair made him conscious of his own actions. 

\------

Tuesday 12:30, the cafeteria was busy. People were standing in long, unstructured queues by the various food and drinks sections offered by the school or sat tightly squeezed together around the tables positioned closely together in the open area. The speakers were playing the newest pop hits a bit too loudly in the background and the lights hung low, rendering the whole cafeteria in an artificial bright white light, leaving no corner of the room to the shadows. It was an environment completely in contrast to what Tsukishima preferred. Too stuffed. 

Tsukishima was sitting on a hard wooden chair at one of the corner tables, his back touching the back of the student on the table behind him. He was slurping on a warm strawberry latte, filling his mouth with the delicious aroma and taste of perfectly ripe strawberries and fresh creme. Warming and fighting off the afternoon cold that had settled deep into his bones, as the Winther weather had permanently moved into his body since late December. 

His mind was on overdrive, flipping through imaginary images of textbooks and lectures. While his mind was occupied, his eyes were following the eye-catching figure of dark bed hair and an obnoxious hyena shriek of a laughter. Mindlessly following how he was laughing, animatedly participating in a conversation with not only Bokuto but also some other familiar faces of the past. Standing there in his usual work out clothes as if he didn’t own anything else or simply knew how much adoring looks it awarded him. But as of habit now, he was not really registering what he was looking at before the bedhead turned his dark midnight eyes over the crowd of seated people, probably searching for an empty seat with a filled tray in his hands. Tsukishima quickly looked away, fixing his stare down at the table and tensing up. Swearing that he could feel the burning sensation of those same eyes on his side profile. 

“Earth to Tsukki!”

Tsukishima whipped his head up, looking as if caught in the act of doing something he should not. Yamaguchi was looking back at him with his eyebrows raised in a mix of amusement and surprise, his hand clasping the straw of his own beverage. At his shoulder lay the blonde head of Yachi. She was looking at Tsukishima with a matching look of amusement and surprise, her small lips drawn in a charming smile. 

Spending their shared lunch period together had become somewhat of their regular Tuesday-Thursday schedule. Meeting up at 12:00 in front of the Media Hall next to the cafeteria building where Yachi had her second period to eat lunch together. To energize their brain with pre-cooked food and drinks for the rest of the school day. Though most of the students had lunchtime from 12:00 to 13:00 every day, their schedules did not match up for the Monday-Wednesday classes as Yamaguchi had linguistics during the usual lunchtime. 

During the whole vacation, the three of them had actually never gotten around to spending time together as a trio and Yachi had insisted on spending lunchtime together twice a week to make up for lost ‘sass’ as she called it. 

“What?” Tsukishima asked as he rid his face off the traces of the moment of wandering thoughts, of the moment of wandering eyes. He could still feel the burning sensation left on his skin even after the sensation of those penetrating eyes had left him. 

“Yammi kept asking you a question,” she said with a slight giggle, looking up at her boyfriend with adoring eyes. Tsukishima had to inwardly throw up at the use of the now-familiar but still sickly sweet nickname. She had explained back in high school that it reminded her of the word ‘Yummy’, which she thought perfectly described his freckled best friend. Not without a blush notably. “Anyway, where did you go?” she added, bringing her eyes back to him. 

“Huh? I’ve been sitting right here? Or are you too busy ogling your boyfriend to notice that you are not alone?” Tsukishima asked in confusion, though his voice was not lacking his usual sass. He was scrunching his eyebrows, tilting his head slightly to rest his temples against his right fingers. 

“No silly! I meant, where did your mind go?”

“While we are talking about ogling…” Yamaguchi shot in with a shit-eating grin.

That comment made his stomach turn weirdly. 

Deciding to ignore Yamaguchi’s comment, he opted for pushing forward with a mundane topic of conversation with Yachi instead, hoping to dodge not only Yamaguchi from the topic but also his brain.

“Class stuff…” he began, which was technically half of the truth. “I’m supposed to argue Korea’s case on the Takeshima island dispute next period and my so-called teammates are biased morons that can’t be objective,” he sighed, massaging his temples with his fingers in irritation. Just thinking about stupid teamwork projects and even stupider team members made his blood boil. Adding more tense stress to his body on a day where he really had not afford to be tense. 

Not knowing how to properly respond, Yachi just leaned over the table and gently patted Tsukishima’s shoulder. “At least the Professor will see that you have done a good job,”

“Don’t stress too much about it Tsukki, you will always meet uncooperative people. However, you should focus your energy on the volleyball try-out. Though with how much you have improved, I’m sure there is really no reason to worry, ” Yamaguchi added to the conversation with a voice that was clearly trying to cheer him on. However, he could read from the shorter boy’s expression the uncertainty in bringing up the subject at all. Knowing well how much stress the fear of rejection put on his best friend’s shoulder. “That’s what I was trying to ask you about earlier when you were occupied with… certain things. Your try-out later, that is to say,”

“What is there to say? I will go there and try my best,” he answered in a casual voice, though the last part of the sentence physically hurt to push out of his mouth, still not comfortable in wording his wishes to pursue his passions out loud. Especially because it was so far out of reach in comparison to in high-school. ‘Try my best’ was still such a new concept for him when it came to volleyball. Still so new for him to dare. But that was the specific reason as to why this whole university experience was supposed to be a new chapter, a new chance. He had promised himself to dare to hope, to dare to try, to dare to be passionate.

From the moment he blocked Ushijima’s spike all the way back in the first year, the smouldering fire had been given the oxygen needed to ignite a slowly growing fire within him, developing steadily for each successful block over the past two years. And he could now say in the quiet of himself that he loved the sport. He loved the sport and wanted it to be a part of his life even though he had decided on another career path, another field of study. 

He had gotten significantly better since the first year. The birth of his passion also gave birth to a new way of practising, new drive and concentration. In the end, it almost became like a drug, seeing how much he could improve and how fast he could improve. Thus it actually terrified him to put himself under examination, under valuation for his talent, his worth in the sport - to let himself be scrutinized under the gaze of somebody that held his fate and pride under their palms.

He had told himself that what mattered the most was to play, to practice together with a team again. That making regular was not what mattered most in the end. However, no matter how much he tried to convince himself of that fact, there was still this small glint of hope residing deep, deep down in his innermost heart chamber. A hope that he could actually make it. A hope to stand on a higher level court and have the opportunity to try blocking the spikes of even more trained spikers. An opportunity to feel that instant rush of self-revelation in the same way he did back in freshman year high school. 

“Tsukki…” Yamaguchi sighed, rolling his eyes exasperatingly. “I’m happy that you are saying you will try your best. But…. I know that you care about the try-out more than you let on. It’s ok to be nervous,”

“I never said I'm not nervous,” Tsukishima huffed.

“Ok, It’s allowed to show it in front of us,”

“Yeah, we are your friends Tsukishima,” Yachi said agreeing, looking too earnest for her own good.

“I-I know,” he said, taken aback by the directness of it all. He leant back in his chair while slightly grimacing and turned his head slightly to the side. 

“Which also means that you can talk about other things that have been bothering you...or the thing that ha-” he stopped mid-word and fake coughed into his closed fist, looking like he knew he was entering into dangerous territories. Knowing this was neither the time nor the place to start this conversation. “Uhm, general things that are on your mind,” he ended, smiling sheepishly. 

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind next time you leave the microwave stained,” Tsukishima snickered back at him, painting his features with a confident sly smile that hid all the confusing mess inside him.

At this comment, Yachi burst out in quiet giggles, burying her face down in Yamaguchi’s shoulder. Clearly oblivious to the inner state of Tsukishima.

“Tch,” Yamaguchi replied in a fantastic imitation of how usually Tsukishima clicked his tongue in irritation. Though Yamaguchi’s ‘tch’ held no real irritation behind it. “But you know, you won’t die from opening up about real stuff once in a while,”

“ Firstly, who says I have any problems to share? Secondly, I’ve never ‘opened up about real stuff’ before, so where is your evidence backing up your statement that I won’t die? Maybe I’m allergic,” Tsukishima bickered back, a smile tugging at his lips behind his hand.

“Oh please, I can read you better than you think,” he simply answered with a small wink. Sending all kinds of unwanted stress about the underlying meaning of those words straight to Tsukishima’s spine. Tensing him up yet again. “And also, I think it’s something called ‘Don’t knock it down until you've tried it,”

“Don’t think that's what you told your mother when she suggested you should start ballet classes. Didn't she say that you have the ‘perfect figure for it’?” Tsukishima leered.

Despite those looming feelings of uncertainty that Yamaguchi’s words gave him, he could never really run from him. Shut him out. Despite Tsukishima’s natural instinct to shut people out when they tried to touch upon personal matters, Yamaguchi’s comfortable presence would always be the most important, the most secure. Leaving him able to have a normal conversation, able to push the doubts back because he knew that he never actually was in danger. His feelings were not in danger, his pride, himself was not in danger with Yamaguchi. Those distressing feelings that pressed on his chest, his spine and body were simply himself running from himself, not Yamaguchi per se. Thus as long as his inner chaos stayed as a quiet smoulder within him and not an outright war, he could still hold a comfortable and playful conversation. As long as he kept dodging the difficult questions. Leaving dramatic exits of the conversation for emergencies.

“Wait, so are you struggling with something that you are not telling us Tsukishima?” Yachi said, surprised, turning her face away from Yamaguchi’s shoulder and staring wide-eyed at Tsukishima. Seemingly a bit behind on the conversation as a whole. 

There was a short awkward silence following that question, both boys looking intently at each other. Yamaguchi with uncertainty as to what to say. What to say to his girlfriend that was completely misreading the situation. Tsukishima with a warning in his eyes, daring Yamaguchi to say anything stupid.

“Haha, no not that I know of,” Yamaguchi said through forced laughter, “You know how I always force Tsukki to listen to all my complaints and rambling, sometimes I just have to remind him that he can do it too. Or I feel like a burden.” 

“I see,” she answered with calculating eyes, not sure if she was believing the words coming out of her boyfriend’s mouth.

At that moment, however, the ten-minute warning bell that signalled for next class chimed through the cafeteria and halted the loud background music. 

“Next time Yachi. Time to deal with my group members,” Tsukishima offered a bit monotonously, and stood up quickly to deliver his tray back to the staff. Yamaguchi gave a sweet kiss on Yachi’s forehead that was met with blushed giggling and followed after Tsukishima. 

Their next respective classes were in the neighbouring buildings of each other, so it had become routine for them to walk back together after every lunch appointment. Walking together and sharing small talk about everything and nothing. 

“ So…” Tsukishima began, dragging the o’ syllable, as they were walking out of the building. Tsukishima was never good at starting conversations. At least not if it was not to insult or make fun of somebody. However, his mind kept churning around the topic of what Yamaguchi knew, or at least what he thought he knew. Tsukishima himself did not even know, so there was no way for Yamaguchi to know. Or did he observe and make a connection in which he himself had not? Or was he thinking something completely wrong, and had a secretly mistaken image of Tsukishima? 

Whatever it was, he did not feel like this was the place to find out nor was he even sure that he wanted the answers to those questions. Thinking to himself that lately, there were sure a lot of things he did not want an answer to. Thus, he needed to replace the myriad of never-ending thoughts with something. And he felt that that something should maybe try to make up for how he had been acting lately towards Yamaguchi. Making up for how much he had shut him out. 

“So….what?” Yamaguchi asked, dragging the first syllabus in the same manner as Tsukishima had, cocking his head curiously. 

“Thank you for believing in me,” he mumbled, a little embarrassed by his own sincerity. He felt like a shitty friend lately. Feeling shitty for taking his frustration of Kuroo out on Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi deserved a piece of sincerity. But as he was not ready to confront those feelings that had really bothered him, he deserved a thank you. He probably deserved a thank you for their whole friendship, but this would suffice for now. 

“You know I always have Tsukki,” he answered with a small smile. He looked for a moment as he wanted to ask something, like he wanted to confront him. Like he was wondering ‘why are you thanking me?’ or ‘Why are you thanking me now?’. But he seemed to drop the matter, accepting Tsukishima’s rare show of sincerity. 

“I know,” 

“ I’m very happy that you are continuing with volleyball. That you came to love the sport again. I think it’s good for you,”

“It’s something that does not require an answer,” Tsukishima mumbled without really thinking about what those words meant. He had not meant to say it, but his mind was too occupied to carefully consider all of his words before speaking when he was in the presence of the person where his guard was the most down. And it was happening alarmingly often lately, and not only around Yamaguchi.

Those words made Yamaguchi scrunch his eyebrow together in question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

At any other point in time, Tsukishima’s answer would have been sassy and carefully guarded. Actually, he would never even have let those previous words escape his mouth at all. But Tsukishima was mentally exhausted and had already lowered his guard to thank his friend, and thus his answer was probably the most vulnerable one he had ever given.

“I don't even know anymore,” 

Yamaguchi neither looked at him nor talked again before they stood outside his building. He seemed deep in thought, conflicted.

“If I am honest with you Tsukki, I’m a bit taken aback by the way you are talking now. But the only thing I’m going to say is that my previous statement stands, you can always talk to me. I know something has been going on with you for a while now, but I’m trying to be a good friend and give you the space you need. But you and me both know even I have a limit,” he said in a voice so foreign on Yamaguchi’s lips, so serious, so full of concern. He gave Tsukishima a last meaningful look before he entered the education building without looking back.

“I know dumbass, but I can’t even talk with myself right now,” Tskishima whispered towards the ground to nobody other than himself. Feeling even more of a bad friend, and even worse than when he started talking. 

Walking up to his own neighbouring ‘International Studies’ building, he noticed a head of black mess disappear around the corner. Undoubtedly on his way to the physical education building for his own classes. 

\----- 

At 4:30 Tsukishima entered the huge sports facilities in which the volleyball tryouts were to be held. 

The practice hall in which he had entered was huge and painted in bright fluorescent lights. Standing in stark contrast to the darkly lit, cramped training space in which he was used to from back in his Karasuno days. The space was installed with all shining new equipment, balls that seemed to barely have been touched and the floors were so squeaky clean and free of skid marks it was hard to believe that people even used the hall. 

But people were using the court, because right in front of him were people dressed in light blue and yellow sports uniforms chatting idly away with each other, practising spikes on those squeaky clean floors or stretching away in different corners of the huge hall. No, not people. His future teammates. At least he hoped so. Which made both curiosity and anxiety bubble in his stomach. 

However, spotting the back of Kuroo standing and interacting with his teammates only served to triple this bubbling feeling. 

Tsukishima felt like an idiot. Like the hugest fuckings idiot ever to walk the earth. Because of course Kuroo was there, so easily recognizable from the back with his wild bedhead that defied all the laws of physics. Of course Kuroo plays on this stupid fuckings volleyball team. How could he not? Kuroo played volleyball, he was volleyball. 

How could this thought not have entered his brain during those more than he count times the older guy had entered his thoughts? It seemed like the most natural conclusion ever that Kuroo would be there. Yet, it had not. Kuroo had already seemed to invade all the other parts of his life to the point it would be close to ridiculous that fate gave them even more accidental encounters. What shoujo manga obsessed higher power had come to re-write his new chapter? Because it was absurd how entwined Kuroo and his life had seemed to become. How comically similar the whole ordeal was to some of those secret shoujo books that Yamaguchi liked when he was in middle school. 

When the initial panic had subdued and the aggressive reaction in his stomach had calmed down, he took a deep breath down into his lungs. And those feelings that revealed itself within him as an aftermath of the shock were surprising to the blonde boy. He was not mortified, angry like those other times their lives had been intertwined. A bit taken aback? Yes. Scared? Yes. But most of all, he was curious. Because at this point in their relation, he had no idea which version of themselves would play out in this practice room. He didn’t know which version he even wanted to unfold itself on this court. But whatever the result came to be, he was curious to be given the chance to change the stand-still in which they had entered. Or as Kuroo’s last words had been to him, stalemate.

“Oh, its french fry-chan,” a voice next to Kuroo made him break his gaze away from his back and actually take in the appearance of the other members of the team. 

He looked with recognition that held awful neutrality at Oikawa standing with his hands on his hips, looking more or less disgusted by his presence despite the playful voice. It did not surprise him that Oikawa was there, nor did he care much. What did surprise him however was how many he could recognize. Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Akaashi and some faces he had played against before but could not name. That was 5 people he could name. 3 people he could recognize. All thrown randomly together in a team that in his mind was always going to be a clean slate, a blank canvas. But now that blank canvas he bought and opened seemed to have already been scribbled on, vandalized before he even had the chance to look at it. Maybe he was foolish from the beginning to believe that things would simply work out.

Oikawa’s voice had made the group turn around to face Tsukishima, to face the newcomer. That included Kuroo. Their gaze locked as if magnetized towards each other. It was the first time they had looked at each other in the eye, looked at each other at the same time in over three weeks. It made his stomach jump uncomfortably, sent shivers down his spine and down his arms to his fingertips, built pressure around his throat. Those eyes were so intense, so painted in dark midnight and brute force. The expression of surprise was only there for a flicker of moments before merging into that burning intensity. And Tsukishima had at that moment no idea what his own eyes were communicating back.

“Tch, of course somebody from Karasuno had to eventually show up and ruin everything,” Oikawa sulked and stuck out his tongue in a childish manner. 

Bokuto patted a heavy hand on Oikawa’s back, destabilizing the setter for a moment, before grinning widely and waving at Tsukishima.”EY! Come over here,” he shouted unnecessarily loudly over to the bespectacled boy, before giving his attention back to Oikawa. “Don’t say that man! It’s gonna be so much fun, I get my little protege on our team. I have a feeling this is going to be a great year.” 

Tsukishima made his way over to the small group of familiar teammates on slightly jellied legs, and forced his face to display his usual bored expression. Refusing to let all these unforeseen events, people, ruin his resolve. Ruin his determination to pursue his passion for volleyball no matter how different this scenario was to what he had imagined. No matter how much his inner restrictions told him to get away. 

“I’m so excited you are here Tsukishima! You should have told me that you were coming. We could have practised some blocking during the vacation,” Bokuto exclaimed, clearly already forgotten that the outside temperature did not exactly make for the best conditions to play volleyball in nor could he have used the facilities as he had yet to start at the university. 

“So you are trying out for the volleyball team Tsukishima-kun?” Akaashi asked in a most neutral voice so common to the former Fukurodani player. Though his eyes were analyzing, looking at Tsukishima. Almost looking through Tsukishima.

“Obviously,” he deadpanned, but still managed to give a small polite nod in the setter’s direction. Acknowledging their acquaintanceship. 

“Not grown out of that shitty sour face and attitude then French-Fry-chan,” sassed Oikawa, his face turning in a displeased manner. In a response to that comment, Iwaizumi hit the top of Oikawa’s head with a closed fist, quite harshly also from the look of it. 

“You are being a brat, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi grunted. 

“That hurt Iwa-chan,” 

“Iwaizumi-san,” Tsukishima said shortly, offering a short nod to the spiker as well.

“Tsukishima,” Iwaizumi offered simply back. Oikawa clicked his tongue. 

“We should stay after practice to chat some more, but for now you should join the other freshies over there. The try-out starts in-” Bokuto said, hinting his head towards a group of students by the left benches before turning his face towards the big clock hanging on the wooden south wall. “-5 minutes. We should start getting ready,” he addressed the last part to his small group. 

They all dissolved from the little circle in which they had stood to prepare for the try-out, grabbing a handful of volleyballs as they went in their opposite directions. However, Tsukishima did not move. Neither did Kuroo. Their eyes were once again locked intensely at each other, probably asking the same question in their mind- ‘What now?’. But they also knew that they had little time to figure out the answer to that question. The seconds were ticking away and if they left without saying anything, doing anything, it would be clear that nothing would change. This was the opportunity given to them to change things if they wanted, but somebody had to say something, anything. And Tsukishima wanted it to change, though he had no idea why. He just knew that the silent encounters were worse than any of the other options. Yet, he could not think of a single thing to say that did not sound utterly lame. 

Kuroo was squeezing the volleyball clutched between his ribs and upper arm and broke the eye-contact. Then he turned around to leave. 

This is it, Tsukishima thought, nothing changes. 

He should have said something, but nothing came out. Unable to do anything besides watching Kuroo turn his back towards him and start walking away. 

However, Kuroo only managed to take a couple of steps away before he abruptly turned back around. Looking almost angry now.

“Why are you here?” Kuroo said with an irritable voice.

Despite the angriness, Tsukishima felt relief wash over him. It was not over. But at the same time, it did not mean that he would let himself be vulnerable in this situation. Because it was still Kuroo, still the guy he maybe did not hate anymore but also far from liked. However, he had learned that he hated the silence more than he disliked Kuroo, and for now, he didn’t need to know why. He just needed to bicker back.

“Oh I wonder why, can’t be the freshman try-outs can it?” Tsukishima smart-mouthed back, rolling his eyes condescendingly. 

“But why? Weren't the whole volleyball thing just a club for you? Just something you did because you had nothing better to do?” Kuroo’s voice raised in frustration, in anger. Looking furious. Tsukishima did not particularly understand why this made Kuroo so angry, but decided not to let the older boy’s temper affect him. 

“Pretty sure this is a club though,” Tsuksihima said off-handedly, pointing at the light blue and yellow banner that hung from the second-floor railing with ‘Tokyo Univ. Volleyball Club’ written in big bold letters all over it. Not exactly ready to share his new resolve, his deeply concealed passions with the guy. He maybe promised to himself that he would pursue what he wanted, to dare to be passionate, but never once had he made a commitment of actually sharing that with anybody that was not Yamaguchi. 

For some long seconds, Kuroo seemed to not know how to react. Seemed to not know if he should laugh or shout. He brought his free hand to his face, dragging it down over his forehead, eyes, nose and mouth before shaking his head.

“I don’t get you,” he sighed despairingly, turning once again around and left for real this time.

This was not the response Tsukishima had expected. This was nothing like any of the encounters they had before. This was such a real comment, lacking any of his regular cheek or tease. This was a new type of interaction that he was not used to from the other. He had seemed genuinely done with him, like this was the last straw. Like this was the end. But Tsukishima had not said anything that was not expected of him or far off from the way he usually spoke. He did not say anything that would not usually ignite the fire of poisonous competition in which he knew both of them enjoyed. Which both of them basically fed off from. 

He could not understand what had happened and it made him feel a slight panic bubble up inside of him, like his insides were mixing cola and mentos together. This was not how it was supposed to go. This was not part of his curious imagination of which versions of themselves would unfold in this room. How many steps had they taken back now? It felt all too final, and Tsukishima did not feel ready for it to be final. Damn not knowing why, he didn’t need to know why. Because his panic was enough to tell him that it could not end like this. This could not be the end. But he had no idea how to fix it, no idea what he did wrong. And he had this ulming feeling that even if he did, his pride would not let him do what had to be done to change it. 

“Ok, everybody that is trying out should line up on that blue line,” shouted a previously unknown player in the captain's uniform out throughout the room, pointing to a blue line towards the middle court. 

This was it, this was the moment Tsukishima had been waiting for. The chance to start correctly, start to admit to himself, show everyone else, that he was passionate about volleyball. Start to accept that the end goal and the possibilities of success are worth the sacrifice of potential failure. But he was not ready. He had already fucked it up. Because there was no way he could stand on that court and show his potential when Kuroo would be there looking at him with those intense angry eyes. Or even worse, if he refused to look at him at all. His legs were already feeling like jelly, his panic was still bubbling strongly behind his ribcage. How could he enter that court now? 

He then felt a delicate hand on the backside of his left shoulder, squeezing and Tsukishima whipped his gaze to the side. Akaashi stood there, not looking at him but at the court with those neutral, calm eyes. He had clearly been busy picking up balls behind them.

“Go and show him,” Akaashi said calmly, removing his hand from Tsukishima’s shoulder. Taking a step forward as if leaving, but Tsukishima quickly took hold of Akaashi’s t-shirt to stop him. It had been a reflex in his confusion as to what Akaashi meant, a reflex by his inner panic.

“W-what do you mean?” Tsukishima asked while trying to keep his voice steady and keep the panic and confusion away. 

Akaashi sighed, stopping in his steps and turned around to look at him.

“Kuroo is angry at you for not taking the sport he loves seriously. I could sense it in high school, and I can see it in his eyes now. If you have changed, go and show him if you can’t say it,” he said and shrugged. 

It then clicked for Tsukishima why Kuroo reacted the way he did. Why this was the last straw. In Kuroo’s mind, Tsukishima had dared to come back to the court to basically make fun of the sport, of the people who played the sport, and he was once again willing to take a spot which should belong to somebody with passion. Volleyball was important to Kuroo, was Kuroo, and that is the one thing in which he can not forgive. It didn’t matter that Tsukishima had changed, because his pride would not let him admit it out loud. They were no longer in a stalemate, but Tsukishima was now in a stalemate with himself. But why did Akaashi tell him this? What did he know? He didn’t like the thought of somebody which he barely knew had any insight in what was going on in his head, and he could feel his defences tightening.

“Who said I’ve changed? Who said I care about what Kuroo thinks?” Tsukishima snarled back, his whole body screaming in protest to the vulnerability of the situation. 

“I did not say you care, but I just don’t think it’s a good idea to start teamwork with people hating each other or misunderstandings,” he answered in a manner that showed he was neither affected nor impressed with Tsukishima’s defences. “And if you did not change, then why are you here?”. Akaashi’s eyes were now shining with insight, as if he knew everything, as if he could read Tsukishima’s mind. Akaashi could see right through Tsukishima’s defences, and he knew that now. He then felt Akaashi’s hand back at his shoulder again, and he tugged him forward. 

“Blue line,” he said simply and pushed him one step more towards the court before turning around to join his teammates. 

Completely in a daze about what just happened, about how this happened, about what Akaashi knew, his jellied legs started walking as if on auto-pilot to join the other freshmen at the blue line. 

It felt like magic. Like he had entered an enchanted circle where all dangers of the outside world could not enter. Like when you pass a mountain of hotell’ed streets on Monopoly and landed safely on free parking. Like nothing else mattered once he crossed that first white line that separated the court and the regular training area. He was focused, pumped, excited…. he was ready. The court had slowly become his safe place after the Shiratorisawa match, and now it encircled him in a protective layer once again. His worries, confusions, panic, all left outside of that white line. And now as he was lined up on that blue line in the middle of the court, he knew that he would show them. Maybe Akaashi was right, if he was not ready to speak up, he could show them. Not only Kuroo, but all his possible future teammates. Show them that he deserved a spot on their team, that he was no longer the boy without passion. 

“ Everybody here?” the supposed captain asked while looking around the room for any possible leftover students who had not heard the message. When he could spot no one, he turned around to analyze all the first years, one by one, as if he was calculating their chances even before they had the chance to show them. He then continued to speak with a dark, carrying voice of clear authority, “ Ok I am your captain Mirotaki Takagi, and this is how it’s going to work. We are going to test everyone on serves and receives, after that, we are going to split you guys into groups based on which position you wish to play. If you want to try out for more than one position, let me know. Just so everybody is aware, this try-out is not for getting a regular spot on the team. That will be determined as we play together in practice. But as we should stay a tightly coordinated team, we cannot accept everybody into the club. Then no one would learn to play coordinated with anyone. So this try-out is in order to see if you can join the practices, and have the opportunity to show yourself worthy of a regular spot in the future,” 

While the other team members stood at the sideline, observing the newcomers with critical gazes, the freshmen lined up behind the white serving marker and waited patiently, but nervously on their turn to serve. 

Tsukishima’s gaze mirrored that of their upper-classmen, an observing look that analyzed his opponents, his fellow students. Measuring their strength.

The first three in line were neither bad nor especially good at serving, simple overhead spikes that landed on the opposing side of the court with a mediocre thud sound. 

The fourth person should consider himself lucky if he were to join the team. At least from the first impression. He opted for an underhand serve that floated gently in a 180-degree bow and hit the ground softly. Such an easy serve that even the most talentless of players would have no trouble receiving it. 

Hinata could have received that one with his eyes closed even during his first year, Tsukishima thought to himself. 

The fifth person, the one in front of Tsukisima, was a guy with broader muscles than he was tall himself. He used all the muscles in his short legs to jump high and smash the ball with a most thundering sound on the opposite court. Securing himself silent looks of disbelief from the onlookers. If he was even half as decent at receiving, he would surely secure himself a spot on the team. 

When it was his turn to serve, he picked up a Mikasa branded volleyball ball from the dark blue wheeled container located at the sidelines, before repositioning himself behind the serving line. He took a deep breath down into his lungs, clutching the ball between both hands and put his forehead down on the smooth, cold surface of the ball. Closing his eyes, he took a few seconds to establish complete focus, complete calmness. 

Right corner, you can do it, he thought for himself. Reminding himself of how much he had improved. How much of a valuable player he had become. 

When the piercing sound of the whistle sounded, there was no apathetic nothingness within him like in the past nor a push of nervousness that used to hit Yamaguchi. He slowly opened his eyes, pinpointing them at the right corner with a fire of determination. He then lowered the ball, placing it in one hand as he lowered it down in front of his body and threw it up high in a 10 degree angle. He stepped up under the toss, concentrated his energy in his right hand and struck the ball from underneath, towards the top of the back in a down and outward motion, creating a topspin on the ball which shot forward with high speed. For a split second, it seemed like the ball was going to pass the boundary line of the court but it dropped quickly down in the innermost corner at the left side of the court. A perfect shot. 

As he turned towards his seniors to study their reactions, he met the shocked eyes of darkest midnight. Tsukishima could still feel his eyes burning, revealing a lot more than he could ever orally express and he knew that Kuroo could feel them burning as well. 

After a fairly well completed receiving performance with only a couple of missed receives in the account of some fairly difficult spikes, he announced his wish for a middle blocker position to the captain and was placed in group number three. 

Group three consisted of six people who all together filled all the individual positions on the court. They sat quietly at the sideline, waiting for their turn while observing the two teams before them play practice matches again their senior regular members. 

As both try-out teams had played their turns, losing by a fair amount in the process, Tsukishima and his temporary teammates took to the court. Positioning themselves to face the wall of challenge their seniors constituted. He could see Oikawa positioning himself at the setter’s mark with Kuroo and Bokuto at each respective side of the court. The captain, together with Akaashi, Iwaizumi and some other nameless players were positioned at the side of the court.

He refused to look at Kuroo. Refused to see if he was looking at him. It was no time to get distracted, no time to let his steel solid focus slip away from him. This was his time and he was not going to waste it. 

The game started. Serves, blocks, receives, spikes… every ball flew around in a practiced machinery of muscle memory and determination. There were heavy breaths, sweat drops and tired muscles. There were balls dropping and balls saved. All happening in this vacuum of electric energy. 

It was at the 23-18 to the regulars mark that it happened. Somebody from Tsukishima’s team had barely saved the ball from a particularly heavy spike in regards to Bokuto, and the ball flew high over the net, giving the opposite team the perfect chance ball.

Tsukishima had no time to actually register what was going on, the automatic analyses of spikers, muscle movements and direction happened on auto-pilot. His body moved as if not belonging to himself, a slave to his subconscious mind that took the information in far faster than he himself realized. He approached the net, jumped quickly with his hands stretched out over his head and bent forward. 

He could feel it, the sting like burn of a ball smashing violently into the palm of his hands and fingers with a loud noise. It was like the noise stopped time for a moment and he could really see what was in front of him. He could see Kuroo, see how his ribcage was heaving, how his muscles were spent in a post-spike but still mid-air movement and how his eyes bore into his own and transformed from triumphant to utter disbelief. They were locked together as they slowly fell down towards the ground again, captivated, distracted by what they saw in each other’s eyes. 

Tsukishima knew at that moment that Kuroo could see him. See the passion that was usually buried deep inside him, hidden from his lips but now bled through all the pores of his body. He belonged on the court and Kuroo could see that. He was not the same kid he once was. 

The ball hit the ground on Kuroo’s side of the court, drawing them out of their trance-like state as their feet hit the ground. Tsukishima then became aware of the looks thrown at him from the other players on the opposite side of the court, mirroring the same surprised expression. He had impressed them. He had impressed them and he had been the centre of attention. And he dared to hope. Dared to hope that this meant he would be a part of the team. 

The first set finished quickly after that moment. The upperclassmen had won. But the confidence that that block had given him gave him the necessary additional tools to pull off more than one more spectacular block in the following set. He even had the opportunity to fully block and shut out Bokuto at one point. 

They still lost both sets, but they far outshined the other teams by far. 

“Good work everybody, make sure I have your correct number before you leave and you will get the result during the next few days,” the captain shouted as he clapped his hands together.

“Wow my protege you were really awesome!” exclaimed Bokuto when the match came to a close and the captain was done picking out team members to gather up the balls, and he embraced Tsukishima in a full body hug. Though Tsukishima would rather call it an attack than a hug. 

As he tore himself off the excited ace, he grumbled an embarrassed,

“Thanks,”

“You have improved,” Akaashi commented neutrally as he walked towards them from the sidelines. If he was impressed, one could not tell.

“Usj, if you were not annoying enough before. Now you are half-decent as well,” complained Oiwawa, pushing his hip out and making a sour sound. Though as usual, it did not take long before he was physically abused by Iwaizumi as a response to the sass. 

“Oi bro! What are you doing over there? Come over here!” Bokuto shouted, waving over to Kuroo that was standing and talking with the captain. “Embarrassed you were shut out by our freshi over here?” 

Kuroo turned swiftly around, looking none too happy with Bokuto. “You know, somebody has to decide who is joining this team,” he shouted back in a childish manner. “And last time I checked, he blocked you too bro,”

“But he blocked you first man,” Bokuto jabbed back, laughing loudly. This comment made Kuroo’s eye light up in competition and he made his way over to the small group. He gripped Bokuto’s neck between his over and underarm, locking him in an iron grip and rubbed his fist harshly into the skull of Bokuto as he dragged him down with his grip.

This was Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s cue to leave the group and continue bickering as they headed for the showers.

Tsukishima on his hand had to roll his eyes. Wondering how people could properly function with such one-tracked minds for brains. His confusion and conflicted feelings in regard to the older guy forgotten for a moment.

“Must be easy to be so simple-minded,” mumbled Tsukishima in a low voice, shaking his head.

“Most of the time, probably yes. But I imagine that it is double as hard when facing something troubling,” Akaashi answered back, following the playful boys with his eyes.

“Mhm,” Tsukishima simply answered, his mind wandering off to thoughts of what could possibly trouble idiots like them. What could trouble Kuroo. Did Tsukishima trouble him in the same way Kuroo troubled him?

“You surprised me, Tsukki,” said the slightly unsure voice of Kuroo, dragging Tsukishima out of his own thoughts. The boys had broken up and now Kuroo was looking at him with new eyes. Eyes that Tsukishima had never seen before. Eyes that Tsukishima was always so conscious of, that had followed him silently for the past weeks. It brought all the confusion back, but it also calmed him in a strange manner he could only remember to have felt with Kuroo in that one hour moment at the bowling court. And Tsukishima had no idea how to respond. 

“Ahh I forgot we used to call him Tsukki!” Bokuto said brightly, looking like he had just remembered some long-forgotten treasured memories. Saying his name as he was tasting the feeling of it in his mouth. 

“Please do not call me that Bokuto-san,” sighed Tsukishima.

“Why? Kuroo calls you that,”

“Bokuto-san, I have a feeling that you don’t want to be in the same position as Kuroo when it comes to Tsukishima-kun,” Akaashi added in, seemingly studying the looks exchanged between the pair. At this, Bokuto seemed more than a little confused. Looking bewildered between the three of them. 

Tsukishima however, felt mortified. What the hell is the purpose of all of Akaashi’s cryptic messages? What does he see? 

“I didn’t say he could call me that either,” Tsukishima bit out through a closely shut mouth, looking anywhere but the trio in front of him. 

“Let us let them talk,” Akaashi proposed to Bokuto, ignoring Tsukishima's last statement. He simply took a hold of the other man’s wrist and pulled him with him towards the showers. The older boy did not protest, but continued to bear a look of utmost confusion due to the whole ordeal. 

This left Kuroo and Tsukishima standing alone on the court, looking at everybody around them in the practice area who were either preparing to leave, shower or chat. Avoiding each other's eye contact to the best of their ability. 

“That was awkward,” Kuroo said sheepishly. From Tsukishima’s side view, he saw Kuroo scratching the back of his head and moving his gaze back at Tsukishima after what seemed like minutes. 

Tsukishima didn’t answer immediately. Not before he felt like he must. 

“No shit,”

Another awkward pause. 

“I guess you've changed your outlook on volleyball. Now we have to work on that sour personality of yours,” Kuroo remarked jeeringly, steering the conversation back to the only form of conversation that has been comfortable for the pair. The pressure of not playing and being semi-alone too much to handle at their current stage in interactions. 

“Who said I changed?” Tsukishima bit back.

It was a stupid question. Tsukishima knew that. Akaashi had already debunked his question by looking at him for no more than 10 seconds. However, his protective outer layer refused to be torn down. The few minutes of panic that had hit the younger boy earlier was still hiding underneath his surface, reminding him that he had to be careful. Reminding him that the new sides of Kuroo were dangerous, sincerity was dangerous.

“Tch, that much is obvious,” Kuroo answered matter of factly. 

“Then, if I have such a sour attitude. Why do you keep talking to me?” Tsukishima asked. The comment was meant to sound like a taunt, mock him for disproving his own statement by doing exactly that - keep talking to him. Like his defences told him to sound. However, it sounded too much of a genuine question for his own liking.

And maybe because it did sound so much like a genuine question, Kuroo answered almost silently,

“I’m in the process of figuring out that myself,” 

The genuinity, however, had a habit of being short-lived between the pair. Too many undiscovered waters to delve into for too long of a period. At least now when they were aware of doing so. 

“Maybe because you look so cute when you blush?” Kuroo added with a wide, fox-like grin and winked towards the younger boy. Waved offhandedly with his left hand, and started to walk backwards towards the captain again as he said, “ See ya Tsukki. That is to say, if you make it.”

Yes, being called cute by Kuroo Tetsuro was the worst thing ever. Worst thing ever because no matter how hard he tried, he could not escape the fast blossoming blush that crept up his neck and cheek. Again. And he knew that Kuroo could see it by the way his eyes got the most satisfying glint in them before he turned around to walk properly. 

\----

On Thursday he got the message.

 **Unknown (13:43):** This is Captain Mirotaki Takagi, congratulations on making the team. First practice is tomorrow at 4:00 pm


	6. Magnetism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really chapter 5.2 tbh

**Magnetism**

**Kuroo.**

Kuroo had laid in his bed awake until late at night the next couple of days following the try-out. Those eyes of liquid honey burning like golden flames behind those dark rimmed glasses hunted his mind in those moments when darkness surrounded him. Those eyes that showed such a passion in which he never had associated with Tsukishima. He thought about his words, his tone, and how they contradicted everything that those eyes told him. He thought about everything he knew about Tsukishima. Everything he thought he knew about him. He thought about Akaashi’s words, and how nothing made sense to him anymore. 

He had based most of his dislike towards the younger guy on the basis that they would never see eye to eye due to their very different views on volleyball. Now however, it didn’t seem like that was the case anymore. Sure, he was a rude little shit which made it hard to know where you really stood with the guy. But more often than not, the rudeness was kinda entertaining. It was exciting.

But admitting now that he did not _really_ dislike the guy felt like a huge loss. Especially because he had no idea of what Tsukishima really thought about him. Tsukishima offered at least aloof but semi-polite answers to his other seniors around him, like Bokuto, Akaashi or Iwaizumi, but never to him. On the other hand, Kuroo had made Tsukishima blush… made him react with something else than a stiff cover. And in those moments, he was so intrigued, so fascinating that it was hard to look away. Hard to think about anything else. 

The only thing he knew for sure was that there was no way for them to escape each other anymore. They would stand there together on the court, be teammates and interact. And things were bound to change, to develop..wasn’t it? Just in which direction, he did not know.

\----

“Hey Hey Hey Tsukki! Come block for me,” called Bokuto out as he saw Tsukishima come out of the changing room on the first Friday of practice. He ran towards the younger boy with his whole body spread out ready for an attack. Obviously having decided that physical assault was his go-to method of greeting the younger boy. Tsukishima, however, crouched down and gripped around his legs to avoid the older boy. Resulting in Bokuto practically flying over his crouched body and tumbling onto the floor.

“I told you to not call me that Bokuto-san,” Tsukishima grumbled sourly as he raised himself up from his crouching position, looking down at the excited boy at the floor.

“Bokuto-san, we have not even warmed up yet. You are going to pull a muscle,” Akaashi said semi-strictly as he made his way slowly over to the pair with Kuroo on his side. “And please be careful will you?”

“It’s not my fault Akaashi, Tsukki avoided me sneakily,” Bokuto pouted, not seeming to care or did not hear Tsukishma’s protest to the catchy nickname. 

“Man, are you expecting a hug from Tsukki here? I think you have some unrealistic expectations,” the raven-haired blocker snickered. 

The expression on Tsukishima’s face in response to Kuroo’s comment changed. He almost seemed to ponder whether to give Bokuto a hug or not just to make sure everything that Kuroo said about him was wrong. This made Kuroo chuckle ever so slightly, humoured by all the subtle hints he could read from Tsukishima’s face. Their eyes locked in something unanswered between them, like whenever they stood in front of each other. Like nobody else existed around them.

“When did you become an expert on me?” Tsukishima asked flatly, raising an eyebrow with a hint of amusement.

“You don’t exactly need a master degree in Tsukki studies to figure that out Honey,” Kuroo answered with a flirty wink, the nickname ‘Honey’ rolling off his tongue without much thought. The kiddingly flirty nature of Kuroo was such a second nature to him when conversations were flowing so easily. Without hostility. Though it did not take him much time to inwardly cringe at his own personality as Tsukishima looked back at him with a most unreadable expression. 

“Wouldn’t you wish you had one though,” Akaashi added in the conversation, again studying how the pair were looking at each other. It was not a question, and it was said in such an off-handedly manner that it added just even more confusion around the statement in itself. Akaashi’s gaze burned into him, but it was a completely different burn than how Tsukishima’s eyes felt on him. This burn was scary, like it was prying open every carefully hidden secret within him. Even those he was not aware of having himself.

“Pardon?” Tsukishima asked, his mouth practically hanging open. Though whether it was a late response to being called honey, Akaashi’s statement or both, Kuroo did not know.

“This conversation is starting to sound way to gay for my liking, let’s start warming up,” Bokuto said with distaste painting his features, picking up an escaped volleyball from the ground. 

“Says the man assaulting another man,” Kuroo shot back, finding the whole notion that the conversation was gay ridiculous and slightly uncomfortable. He was not gay, nor was this conversation. He did however pick up a ball from the dark blue container and joined Bokuto on his way to the court. Continuing to bicker about who was the gayest of the pair.

“They are aware that we don’t need volleyballs to warm up right?” Kuroo heard Tsukishima comment to Akaashi as he was walking away.

“Yeah, but they are volleyball idiots.”

\-----

Tsukishima was standing there, his knees crunched and his arms ready to react to the movement of the ball. Moving in sync with the other team members, an unsaid contract, unspoken agreement. Moving in sync with Kuroo. Playing ball like they had always been playing together, like this was how it was supposed to be. Two blockers working together to shut out the opposite team. Irrelevant that at this moment the opposite team were their own teammates. Because when on the court, when moving through the electrifying air of friendly competition, nothing else mattered. It was correct.

Akaashi set the ball, twisted the ball in his hands and pushed the ball backwards to meet the flying Bokuto. It hit Bokuto’s palm softly, allowing for the spiker to add maximum strength to the shot, smashing it forward. 

It all happened so quickly. During those split seconds in which the ball had been exchanged on the other side of the court from setter to spiker, Tsukishima had dragged Kuroo by the sleeve of his dark work-out t-shirt and positioned them in front of the net. In front of Bokuto. He counted almost silently down, directing Kuroo to follow his lead. It burned where his fingers had grazed Kuroo’s skin but he had no time to ponder upon the fact. He waited for the count to reach one and jumped with practised precision in time with Tsukishima, their shoulders touching. Raising his arms to shut out Bokuto.

The ball hit exactly in the middle of their raised palms, hitting both Tsukishima and Kuroo’s hands where they connected their block. Reversing the direction of the ball, striking it down with brute force. 

The pair turned to each other with bright eyes, excitement evident in their facial expressions, and with their already raised palms went into a powerful double high five. Having evidently moved beyond the barriers that stopped them the last time, though unconsciously. Kuroo’s palm burned hot. Whether due to the impact or Tsukishima’s touch remained unknown to the older boy.

“That was totally my save,” Kuroo barked out with laughter and excitement. Looking down at his palms in awe, before looking up again. 

“You wish,” Tsukishima bickered back, a smile almost evident on his face as the edges of his mouth trembled. 

“Best out of 3?” Kuroo snickered in question. 

“I don’t think we can foresee how many saves we are going to make Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima answered in amusement, hiding part of his expression behind a fisted palm.

“OoOoOo, is that the tone of a loser I’m detecting?” Kuroo responded, riling up the competitive side in them both.

“Oh, bring it on,” Tsuksihima said, fire burning once again behind those deep bespectacled eyes.

Kuroo could feel it. The pause button between them had been pushed again. The mental scoreboard between them thrown out. The question this time however was whether it was really a pause button or if it was a stop button. 

\----

“So how is it going freshies?” Bokuto asked as he placed his tray of food on the table in which Tsukishima, Yamaguchi and who Kuroo believed to be Karasuno’s former manager were eating lunch. 

Shrugging, Akaashi placed his tray down on the connected table next to them and pulled Kuroo down to sit with them.

“Oh! Bokuto-san, Kuroo-san, Akaashi-san, how good to see you guys,” Yamaguchi beamed, abandoning his fork midair in surprise of the intrusion of their seniors. 

“H-Hello,” Squicked the blond manager, looking as if she believed they were going to eat her.

“Must check upon our dear underclassmen, making sure you are behaving,” Kuroo added in, winking towards the trio with a wide grin painting his face.

“I hardly think you, nor Bokuto-san for that matter, are the best authority on behaving Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima commented dryly, a small smirk playing on his lips. 

“You do not even know half the story,” sighed Akaashi, rolling his eyes. 

“We’re offended,” Kuroo exclaimed in mock hurt and surprise, putting his hand dramatically over his heart. “Right we are man?”

“Very offended,” Bokuto agreed with a nod. 

“When you have to look up in a law book whether what you are doing is illegal or not, then I do not think you have the right to be offended,” Akaashi said calmly while starting to eat his dry pasta. 

“I see,” Tsukishima sniggered, “I guess that’s how you got to know about explicit restrictions in International Law,”

He was looking amusedly at Kuroo, twirling the fork between his fingers. “I was _almost_ impressed during that dinner, but now...” he continued, adding pressure on the word ‘almost’. Challenging Kuroo with his gaze, locking them in those countless moments of lingering eye-contact. It made most minuscule blush appear on Kuroo’s features.  


Being caught by Tsukishima while being penetrated by those eyes had the funniest effect on his insides, spilling over to his outer appearance. The memory of that disastrous dinner usually made his stomach feel sick, overwhelmed him with anger and awkwardness, but now… the emotions welling in his stomach were much harder to put words to.

“Tsukki, you shouldn’t say that,” Yamaguchi chuckled. Kuroo could sense that the younger boy tried but failed horribly to be strict. Instead, he opted to lightly punch his best friend on the shoulder to make more impact on the statement he chuckled away.

“Y-You should be nicer to our senpais Tsukishima,” Yachi added in, still looking as terrified as ever. If Kuroo were to think back, he could not remember to have seen the younger girl with any other expressions.

“Don’t worry about it, ex-manager-chan. I choose to believe it's Tsukki’s way of showing us affection,” Bokuto chimed in, waving his hand as to show it was no big deal.

“Her name is Yachi,” Akaashi commented dryly. 

“How the hell do you remember that?” Bokuto and Kuroo asked simultaniously. The things Akaashi knew and remembered were sometimes almost scary.

“You guys are being rude,” Akaashi answered, looking sternly at the duo. 

“Anyhow, how is Tsukki doing in practice?” Yamaguchi coughed, bringing the conversation over to another topic. Maybe in order to take the attention away from the terrified looking girl.

“He has gotten so much better! I’m burning with determination to pass his blocks when we are practising,” Bokuto answered passionately, imitating a spike with his right hand. 

Akaashi offered a confirming ‘Mhm’ sound.

“He keeps hogging my blocks though. Such rude behaviour from a freshman,” Kuroo shot in with a play-pretend unhappy tone, forcing his eyes away from the blonde boy to the group in general. 

“I guess you should practice some more then Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima commented with that annoyingly smug smile, eyes still locked on Kuroo.

‘You little shit’ Kuroo spelled out silently with his mouth, piercing Tsukishima with a challenging but yet humorous look.

The lunch continued in the same manner. Laughter, smiles, jokes, bickering and normality. It was normal. Comfortable. It was everything he could never have imagined to share in the company of the blonde. Though the blond did not exactly laugh, his tense armour was lowered and the corner’s of his mouth kept threatening to draw up in a smile. And it did funny things to Kuroo. Funny things he did not want to name. Because Tsukishima was a guy, a guy he just recently did not like.. and nothing made sense. But despite his inner confliction, he could not help but to enjoy these moments. 

“How is it going with your girlfriend Tsukishima-kun?” Akaashi asked in a peculiar voice, a foreign voice on Akaashi’s lips that broke the flow of the existing conversation. Sending Kuroo somewhat of a mysterious look. As if he was measuring his response. 

Tsukishima looked somewhat quizzically at Akaashi. It was obvious to Kuroo that Tsukishima thought the question was random, out of context. The blonde boy frowned slightly, opening his mouth several times to respond, but it seemed like he didn’t know how. Kuroo was not all together surprised at this reaction however. Tsukishima was a private person and most likely felt cornered and uncomfortable to be asked about something so private as his relationship. 

“She is quite busy lately, even more so than I. So I do not see her much. But we talk,” Tsukishima finally answered, seemingly unable to simply ignore a direct question from Akaashi. The black haired boy usually had that effect on people. However, his response made all of his insides churn uncomfortably. 

Does that mean he wants to see her more than he does?, he asked himself, clutching his fist in front of his heart, feeling how it tugged almost painfully. 

Of course he wanted to see her, it's his girlfriend, he continued in his mind and shook his head furiously. Hating this conversation. 

“I thought I would never say this.. but maybe you should learn something from Tsukki here bro,” Bokuto commented with a snicker, though his eyes held some accusations in them when he looked at Kuroo.

\----

“Are you following me Kuroo-san?” Tsukishima asked, casting a side-look at Kuroo who was walking in pace with him.

“We live in the same building, remember?” Kuroo sniggered and placed both of his palms at the back of his unruly hair, looking up at the darkening sky. 

It looked for a moment that Tsukishima was not going to say anything. Just continued to walk next to Kuroo in an unusually comfortable silence. A silence that followed them through the narrow streets of the University area and down crooked roads cast in shadows from the tall buildings. The sky was painted in bleeding sun-set colours of dark orange and red to delicate hues of purple and pink. Their shoes were the only sounds Kuroo registered, the shuffling of sneakers on the hard asphalt surface. It was probably a lot more sounds that made up the whole noise image of Tokyo, because it always was. At that moment, however, the sounds of their synchronized steps were all he could hear. It was peaceful. 

However, Tsukishima eventually broke it.

“Then where is Bokuto-san?” he asked while cocking his head as in question. His hair of bright yellow looked like a glorie around his head when contrasted to the darkening sky. The warm weather allowed for the younger boy to forsake his jacket in favour of an airy white t-shirt and comfortable after-practice black joggers. He had his hands in his pockets, kicking the ground aimlessly as he walked. 

“I think he dragged Akaashi with him to sing karaoke,” Kuroo said quietly, almost afraid of breaking the vacuum surrounding them. But still, some part of him was pulling at him harshly to not lose the opportunity to talk with the younger boy. “To Akaashi’s dismay naturally,”

“I see,” Tsukishima responded simply. Cutting of the conversation.

“The sky is beautiful tonight,” Kuroo said stupidly, lost for anything good to continue the quiet conversation with.

“How awfully romantic of you,” Tsukishima snickered sarcastically. It was not completely playful, but it was not mean either. It was just...Tsukishima. 

“Got a girlfriend didn’t I? How you got one with your _charming_ personality is beyond me,” Kuroo answered back with a shit-eating grin.

“Remember you got one now did you?” Tsukishima jabbed back. 

Kuroo blinked confused at the younger boy. Bewildered where that particular comment came from.  
No doubtedly in response to Kuroo’s confused look, Tsukishima sighed and elaborated, “Since I actually talk to my girlfriend, I know for a fact that you have been paying next to zero attention to yours,” 

“Oh,” Kuroo answered dumbfoundedly. Tsukishima had actually bothered to explain something properly. That was most unusual.

The explanation however made a rush of guilt consume him, guilt towards his girlfriend. He was distancing himself further and further away from her. Yet he still kept stringing her along. Keeping her with him for his own benefit but totally neglected what she needed, what she deserved. But… he just had not the energy to keep up the appearance much longer, keep pretending he liked her more than he did. He should have broken up with her a long time ago, but he was afraid of the consequences. He was afraid of his secret. And some part of him still held onto the hope that he would magically change. 

“How you keep yours with your _charming_ personality is beyond me,” Tsukishima said with a snort and strode into their shared building. However, he didn’t bother to keep the door open for Kuroo, and it nearly smacked him right in the face. He could hear Tsukishima sniggering as he walked further into the building.

\--

March had turned into April and April turned into May, and things were definitely changing. Like their relationship changed with the seasons. Their cold distance was almost just a bitter memory of Winther that had melted by the coming of Spring. Their relationship still consisted of little actual conversations, mostly just back and forth jabs. What was different, however, was that the anger and hostility which accompanied those jabs were left behind together with the Winter months. 

Kuroo was breathing heavily. He was sitting at the bench next to the court, sweating profusely and all of the muscles in his body was screaming from exhaustion. He had been lying awake for too long recently, staying up far beyond what would be considered a reasonable bedtime for somebody with such a high-intensity schedule. Laying silently on his bed while clutching his phone as he read through the short conversations he was having with Tsukishima, waiting for a response he knew would not come before the next day. 

Tsukishima was very strict with his sleeping schedule and did not let himself get distracted from getting 8 hours of sleep every night by anything. Not that they were talking about anything remotely close to important. It was mostly Kuroo sending annoying messages until he would get an annoyed response back from the sour guy. However, those small annoyed replies never failed to put a smile on his face.

He had gotten ahold of Tsukishima’s number from the captain, giving the excuse that he needed to contact Tsukishima about something school-related but had missed the opportunity to ask him. In reality, Kuroo knew that if he asked the boy in person, Tsukishima would probably refuse. What was more, he did not think he could actually bear the thought of actually asking himself. He felt like that would be losing some kind of competition they did not even have anymore. Because he could not explain even to himself why he wanted his phone number. What was he even going to text Tsukishima? 

That question had bothered him for several days until he sent a simple:

 **(20:15):** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He had flung his phone away from himself on the bed and buried his face in the pillow after sending the message. Bewildered by his own anticipation for sending a stupid message to the younger boy. It was so elemental. Something that was not supposed to be such a big deal. But he blamed it on their whole complicated history. How, no matter what had happened since, he had no idea where he had Tsukishima. He was an enigma within an enigma. Even though the boy was slowly decodifying himself, showing Kuroo new sides of himself…. the new sides, the decoded numbers, did not add up in his brain. Making him almost desperate to figure him out, but terrified at the same time for what it did to himself. Himself, that he was thoroughly afraid of figuring out. 

But as the phone beeped in response, he had flung himself around, grabbed the phone and entered the password with speedy precision. Staring at the response.

 **Tsukki(20:32):** How the hell did you get my number Kuroo-san?

It made him laugh. Of course Tsukishima would know it was him from such a simple, but yet a silly thing.

 **(20:33):** Secret. Anyways, how in the world did you know it was me Mr. Smarty pants?  
(・о・)

 **Tsukki(20:35):** Just a hunch.  
**Tsukki(20:36):** Why are you texting me? 

**(20:37):** No reason, just letting you know I have your number now (・｀ω´・)  
**(20:37):** So be prepared to be called up for morning runs with me and Bokuto 

There had been no further response from Tsukishima that evening. Kuroo had kept texting here and there in the following weeks. Always small annoying messages that held no real conversation nor meaning, but still filled the dark-haired youth with anticipation. 

Yesterday had been no different. 

**(22:12):** Tsukki, did you know scowling causes premature wrinkles? You should watch out for that sour face of yours  
**(22:12):** *Attached link* - 7 Most Common Factors in Premature Aging

 **Tsukki(22:17):** Did you know idiocy runs in the family?  
**Tsukki(22:17):** So please never get children

 **(22:19):** Do you feel like, I dunno, physical pain if you are not being a shit towards other people? (・ω<)

 **Tsukki(22:23):** Do you really think you have the right to tell me that? Anyways, should not waste my talent

 **(22:25):** Yeah what a sad world that would be （＿ー＿）  
**(22:25):** And I’m just trying to be a good senpai and look after my underclassmen. 

He had laid for hours staring at his phone, staring at nothing. Simply laying there in his good mood, restless with his thoughts so far off that he himself was not aware where he was in his head anymore. The continuous unrestfulness after texting Tsukishima had affected his sleep, and he could feel that now. He could not remember how long it was since he last felt this tired after a match, his body was begging him to let it rest. 

However, no matter how tired Kuroo was, he would never let himself skip out on an actual practice match against another school. He had forced his body through it, demanding it to play to its regular standard. Which led him to this current state of utter exhaustion, stripped out of every drop of energy that was left in his tank at the beginning. He was sitting with his thighs spread wide and his back and head were slumped down between them. Breathing hard. But they had won and the feeling of triumph rendered his exhaustion inconsequential. It was a necessary sacrifice, where the end justified the means. 

The sudden sensation of something ice-cold hitting his forehead made him shudder, the cold sensation unexpected but welcome. He reached for the object in which he recognized to be a water bottle, and lifted his head. 

Tsukishima was standing there. Standing there with a carefully hidden face of concern, but Kuroo could see it. He could depict the small details in his face that separated the concern from his otherwise bored expression from the weeks he had spent looking at him. Looking, staring, but never talking. As he grabbed the bottle from Tsukishima, their fingers touched ever so slightly. It sent a violent tingly and warm sensation all through his body. All the way from his fingertips down to his toes. And the look on Tsukishima’s face, the feeling of his fingers were just all too much and at the same time too little. 

It was all over in just a few milliseconds. Tsukishima had dragged his hand back as if he had been burned on contact with Kuroo. His expression flickered with fear before covering himself in his tightly fit armour again. 

“T-Thanks,” Kuroo stuttered out in a whisper.

“Your welcome,” Tsukishma mumbled back and swiftly turned around to leave the interaction short.

“Congratulations on making regular,” Kuroo called after him, but he was not sure the younger boy could hear him. 

\---- 

The team practice was over. Most of the team had showered and left over an hour ago. Only a few of them were left practising after hours. It had become a habit by now, always stretching the practice time until they were thrown out of the facilities by the janitor. 

On this particular Monday, he and Iwaizumi were practising receives as Oikawa and Bokuto were improving the accuracy of their serves. Diving left and right trying to save the monstrosity that was the serves of Oikawa and Bokuto. Akaashi and Tsukishima had taken a break from their own practice, standing in the corner by the net (quite in the way Kuroo must add) while chatting quietly between each other about who knows what. Their voices too soft to hear.

It was actually quite interesting to watch. The two most quiet persons he knew were actively talking to each other, speaking to each other. Both their faces completely neutral, like the conversation was the most boring thing to ever happen to them. But Kuroo knew better. None of the two boys would have bothered to participate in the conversation if they found it boring. 

Kuroo really wished that he could hear what they were saying. So curious as to what those two could be talking about that was interesting enough for them to hold a conversation longer than a couple of minutes. When he and Tsukishima spoke with one another, it was mostly only to throw insults at each other with a sprinkle of normal sentences in-between. Nowadays, it was playful insults … but never actually something that could be called a conversation. But here he stood, holding one with Akaashi. 

He was conflicted. Conflicted because the movement of Tsukishima’s lips was captivating. Seeing them move around each syllabus, his tongue rolling in motion with his words like he was tasting every sound. It was intoxicating.

Conflicted because it made his stomach turn like a green-eyed monster which scraped at his insides. Demanding him to push Akaashi away and force Tsukishima to only speak to him. 

No, I’m not jealous. I’m just annoyed that they are occupying the court for chit-chat. And I want to talk to Tsukishima to tell him that, Kuroo thought to himself. Forcing himself to think that.

He was, however, brought out of his thoughts by a searing pain in his head that was accompanied by the loud smack of a volleyball. He had been hit by a ridiculously hard serve. Oikawa had been serving and by the annoyance clearly expressed under the triumph painted on his face, he knew he had done that totally on purpose.

“Hey dipshit, care to pay attention?” Oikawa shouted annoyed. Placing a hand on his hips, and releasing a sound of irritation. 

Kuroo had no chance to respond, however, because the most unexpected, most vexing sound he had ever heard escaped out of those captivating lips. Out of Tsukishima. Sounds of something unearthly, touched by a higher power to put everybody in close proximity under its spell. A sound so clear it left no smither of darkness to cast even the smallest corner of the room in shadow. Was the hall always this bright? 

Tsukishima had laughed, almost giggled. It was a genuine sound, not a mocking snigger. It was a laugh. He was laughing at him, at the situation. His eyes shot back to the younger boy, staring at him in utter disbelief where he stood. Tsukishima had his eyes closed, trying to stifle his laughter behind his hand while clutching the other arm around his stomach. It was unfair on all levels how much this sound tugged at his heart. How it made the world seem painted with cherry blossoms and roses at the corner of his vision like a cheesy shojo anime. And he swore he could hear the intro to Ouran High School Host Club playing in the background. 

What made everything even worse was the somewhat knowing look Akaashi sent his way. But he refused to acknowledge whatever Akaashi seemed to know or understand.

\---- 

With the end of May period came the heightened electric charge related to the upcoming tournament. It came with longer practice sessions. It meant more practice matches. It had been consuming his every living and occasionally sleeping hour for the last few weeks, pushing all non-volleyball related matters to the darkest of corners in his brain. Or that was not completely the truth, it would be more accurate to mention that ‘volleyball related matters’ also included the members of the volleyball team as well, and ..some more than others. 

Reliving the same schedule of morning work-outs, sleeping through classes, volleyball practice and texting Tsukishima before bed. It was a comfortable bubble to exist in. One that was not accompanied by unwanted responsibilities and feigned personalities. It was this that motivated him to wake up in the morning, this that pumped blood through his veins, made him move and breath. 

This. Standing on the court. Looking with hungry eyes at the opponents on the other side, moving in motion with the ball as if there was a red string attaching them, was his life. Taking one step to the side, crouching down and receiving the ball. Feeling the burning sensation where the ball met bare skin. Taking two steps towards the net, position himself and jump. Feeling the ball shoot down towards the opponent's court, shut it out, score points. All together, working together to score just that one more point. Just in the same way he told his team before every match back in his Nekoma days, ‘We are the body's blood–flow smoothly and circulate oxygen so the brain functions normally ‘. The belief that the match was never lost before the ball had touched the ground. 

However, nothing usually went as planned. There was suddenly a loud sound that disrupted the smooth blood flow, the intense concentration in which had wrapped itself around the room. A sound, just like a thud and a pained whisper of ‘fuck’ under one's breath. The whole population of the room seemed to freeze up for some drawn-out seconds, like they were all holding their breaths. Waiting. Waiting for the damage to reveal itself, to react in an appropriate manner. Kuroo could see him, see Tsukishima. Leaning over at the floor, his face hidden behind his blonde curls and his arms were clutching around his left thigh, hissing. Kuroo stared as transfixed on the thigh, unable to move, just stared at how the muscles spasmed and contracted within those milky white, smooth thighs of his.

“Are you ok?”

It was Akaashi that had reacted before anybody else. Hurried himself from the bench at the sidelines and crouched next to Tsukishima. He stretched one arm out to push back those sweaty blond curls to get a good look at him, to get his attention. 

“Y-yes, just a really bad cramp,” bit Tsukishima out through clenched teeth. The nape of his dark blue t-shirt was showing new spots of dark sweat owing to the pain. 

Akaashi did a quick inspection of the younger boy, making sure there was nothing else wrong before he grabbed Tsukishima under his shoulder and helped him off the court. 

“Take the rest you need Tsukishima,” the captain shouted after him as he seemed to have snapped out of his temporary shock and inability to move. The coach signalled for Iwaizumi to replace Tsukishima on the court and the match restarted as if nothing ever happened. One new player, but the stable blood flow was restored as a healthy vein replaced the damaged one. 

They had once again won a practice match. It seemed like, whoever they replaced as regulars on the team still fit into the whole puzzle of Tokyo university’s volleyball team. Everybody a piece of the puzzle, a piece that fits into the whole picture which was bigger than simply those six on the court. So unified that even though one puzzle piece had somewhat of a divided attention, not able to keep his eyes away from a certain blonde’s pained expression, they still won. 

They all thanked the opposite team for a good match, gave each other a triumphant high five to celebrate their win, before the team huddled around Tsukishima to see how he was doing. Tsukishima’s leg was still trembling as mad, twisting within the skin of the younger boy. It looked terribly painful, and Tsukishima’s expression mirrored this notion. 

Bokuto, lacking the common sense to be careful, threw himself over the pained boy with a wail. Looking almost panic-stricken, as if he believed the younger boy to be dying. 

“Do you need an ambulance Tsukki?? Somebody call an ambulance!” Bokuto practically shouted in distress out into the room, hugging Tsukishima tightly into his body. “Does anybody know CPR?”

“No Bokuto-san, I do not need an ambulance. But if you don’t quit it and let go, you will,” Tsukishima bit out. The pain seemed to be more manageable compared to earlier. If his facial expression was anything to go from. But on the other hand, Kuroo knew no one as good as Tsukishima to hide his feelings. Maybe except Akaashi. 

“But-” Bokuto had no time to say anything further before Akaashi came and pried the larger boy off Tsukishima. Huffing, he muttered “Let him breathe Bokuto-san,” 

As Oikawa opened his mouth to most likely say something insulting, Iwaizumi stopped him before he could fully open his mouth and grumbled, “No need to insult the guy when your face already is an insult all by itself,” Which naturally gave room for heavy bickering at Tsukishima’s left side.

Kuroo found himself standing awkwardly in between all the worry and bickering. Uncertain if saying something would just make everything worse for the younger guy. Also questioning what he should say if saying something was the right call. He was worried, and wanted to ask how he was feeling. But it felt like such a stupid question when he could clearly see the pain in the other’s face. He pulled on his black workout shirt, thugging clumsy at the edges, and waited for the correct answer to fall down from the sky and offer him a revelation. 

“It is not normal for a muscle to cramp up for such an extensive period of time,” said the captain with his forehead wrinkled as if deep in thought. He then proceeded to turn towards Kuroo and look at him quizzically. Like an idea was forming in his head. An idea in which Kuroo could feel in every bone of his body that he would not like. “Are you not currently taking the sports massage diploma Kuroo? Maybe you could help?” the captain asked.

Nope, he did not like that suggestion at all. The thought of touching Tsukishima in that matter, on his thigh of all places, sent weird shivers down his spine. Made him feel a weird tingling sensation he did not want to explore. 

“U- ehm- u.. -uh, I-i’m sure Tsukk-Tsukishima would prefer that I did not,” Kuroo answered, tumbling over his words as he cast a quick look at the younger boy before looking down at the polished hardwood and tugging more visibly at his shirt. 

“But that is a great idea!” Bokuto chimed in. Opting to shuffle over to the raven-haired boy and pulling at his overarm. “Look at how much pain my small protege is in, we need to help him bro.” 

“I think that is the most logical option,” offered Akaashi quietly.

“Show glasses-chan here your magical fingers,” Oikawa said, winking in the most uncomfortable way in Kuroo’s direction. “ I know it helped my knee _sooo_ much,” The shit-eating grin on the setter’s face was almost enough for Kuroo to punch him right there, damn the consequences.

“I’m not sure what you are trying to imply with that tone Oikawa, but I suggest you shut up,” Kuroo bit back, both angry and uncomfortable at the same time. There had certainly not been anything remotely not normal with the massage he had given Oikawa, nor to any others for that matter. And he could just not fathom why Oikawa found it necessary to phrase it in such a manner, pouring gasoline at an already dangerous flame. He knew that the setter had issues with the former Karasuno members and knew that Tsukishima was not one for physical contact, but they we're teammates now. He had no reason to make matters worse.

“He does not mean anything, Shittykawa just has a thing for brewing up shitstorms,” Iwaizumi offered with a sigh, massaging the temples of his forehead with his fingers. 

“Iwa-chaan, that is so uncalled for. I just said that Kuroo is good, didn’t I?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine in a minute. I certainly do not need a massage,” Tsukishima finally added to the conversation, looking everything but fine. His eyes were filled with carefully hidden panic and Kuroo could see that he was not the only one utterly uncomfortable and embarrassed by the whole situation. 

“I don’t see that we got much of a choice here Tsukishima,” the captain said with worry clearly etched in his features. “As your captain, I cannot just leave you here and the nurse has already left for the day.”

“I suggest you just accept the situation,” Akaashi said. In response to this, Bokuto leaned towards Akaashi and whispered not so discreetly into the other’s ear,

“What situation? I don't get what the big deal is,”

To which only Akaashi sushed the older boy as a response. 

“I-I’m really fine,” Tsukishima insisted, making a motion to stand up to prove his point. He only managed to force himself up to a half-standing position before he collapsed again down at the bench.

“I get that you don’t like this, but this is only getting ridiculous. Kuroo, you know what to do. All you other guys, give them some space,” the captain ordered, waving his hands upwards as a motion to make the other team members go away. He gave the pair a strict look, daring any of the two boys to protest before he left Kuroo and Tsukishima alone. They were left standing and sitting awkwardly, avoiding each other's gaze that normally was drawn to each other like a magnet to its opposite poles.

Kuroo took a deep breath. Cursing inwardly at every choice in his life that had landed him in this position. At any almighty power that thought this was a good idea of a joke. His legs felt as heavy as lead, moving them felt impossible. Like moving through thick mud, through quicksand that dragged him further and further down an inward spiral. 

“So are you gonna just stay there or help me?” Tsukishima almost barked, his protective armour working so blatantly obvious in high gear to seem unbothered. However, no amount of armour could hide the fact that Tsukishima was uncomfortable. The fact that he would have run out of this building and never look back if he could. But he could not, he was hurt. Which was the exact reason as to why they were in this situation. He could feel his team members burning holes in his sides, waiting for him to get a move on. Kuroo knew that Tsukishima could feel their eyes too and thus the blond knew that he had no opportunity to shout at him to get lost. 

They was trapped. And they knew it. 

He took a couple of steps towards the younger boy in front of him. The younger boy with those magnetizing eyes of liquid honey, with those long pale legs and defined muscles. Never could he ever remember that it had been so hard to move. But he moved, step by step towards Tsukishima before he slowly sunk to his knees between those open legs. 

Oh gad this position is so wrong, Kuroo thought to himself. He lifted trembling hands towards the throbbing thigh and made contact with soft skin that moved painfully under his fingertips. It burned. And Tsukishima hissed.

While making a weird coughing sound and trying to stare at nothing in particular, trying to not take in any details, he said,

“Shall I help you manoeuvre to the floor? This position is a..a bit uhm difficult to work with,”

Tsukishima did not say anything, only nodded. He could feel the movement of his head through the shift of his body and knew without having to look at him that the younger boy had reluctantly agreed. 

“I-I'll manage without help though,” Tsukishima mumbled and shuffled himself out of Kuroo’s grip to give himself room to glide down on the floor. The movement was clearly painful, but Kuroo was thankful for all the opportunities given to him to postpone the inevitable. To minimize the contact for as long as possible. 

The new position was better, but at the same time a million times worse. Better because it was professionally easier, worse .. because everything about this was worse. Tsukishima was laying on his back in front of him, his oversized dark blue workout shirt so long it seemed like he was not wearing anything under. His left arm was draped over his face to conceal a quite prominent blush that was playing over his cheeks and ears. His thighs were shut tightly together as if in an iron lock, but they both knew that he would eventually have to… open up. He refused to acknowledge why this was so terribly bad, not ready to even try to explore those suppressed thoughts. For probably the millionth time this semester. However, he could not escape the situation in the same way he could with his thoughts. 

“We'll hit the showers. We expect a healthy Tsukki when we get back,” Bokuto shouted with a wave as the captain had confirmed that Kuroo was indeed doing his duty as the team’s unofficial healer and were ushering them inside the changing room. Kuroo grunted as a response. 

“Y-You need to open your legs,” Kuroo said after the team had disappeared, trying to sound professional but felt he was being anything but. 

“For you? You wish,” Tsukishima said with a carefully constructed sassy voice, slightly muffled by his hand that still tried to conceal the mortification on his face. For some few, eternal long seconds ...this comment made everything so much worse. Made the blood in Kuroo’s veins turn to ice. 

However, this comment also allowed them to joke away the situation. Pretend it all was a joke. If both of them just ignored what they could read on each other's faces, what they didn’t understand in their own or the other’s faces, they could go back to normal after this whole ordeal. Pretend it never happened. 

“Oh my Tsukki! You are wounding my integrity as a professional,” Kuroo pushed out, using every cell in his body to put on a voice layered in sarcasm and mock hurt.

“Wasn’t aware that you had integrity,” Tsukishima jabbed back. Nonetheless, he carefully opened his legs with his wounded thigh trembling in pain. 

Kuroo had to look away. He could not watch, had to take a large silent breath to stabilize himself before he was ready. 

Then he slowly, carefully looked back and reached for the thigh, wrapping his ragged hands that were worn from years of volleyball practice around it. Dipping his fingers into the flesh, looking for damage, searching for the nerve all the while trying to think of nothing else besides the anatomy of it all. Pushing deep into the nerves and tissue, forcing the muscle to relax under his ministrations. He repeated these motions on that oh so smooth thigh, running his fingers over each muscle, working them loose. Feeling how the painful throbbing under his fingers calmed slowly down.

After 10 minutes or so, he noticed that Tsukishima had more trouble with lying still. This made next to no sense to Kuroo, as the pain should allivate with his massage not amplify it. He knew for a fact that sports massage did not fall under the category of ‘comfortable massages’, and it was often actually labelled as quite painful. However, he did not think Tsukishima was a person that would be defeated by a massage.

He kept delving his fingers into the flesh, but his eyes were getting distracted by the small adjustments Tsukishima was making with his body. How he clutched his other arm at the front of his t-shirt, how his legs were trying to close again as he worked. How his muscles seemed more tense than ever, but at the same time, he was being restless and shifty. Twitching in places that had nothing to do with his thigh as he ran his fingers upwards, pushing the shorts further up. The tips of his fingers touching, gliding all the way up to the delicately named pubic bone. Feeling the tremble that went through the younger's body. His arm that was blocking his face was now replaced by his stretched palm, dragging it down his face as he hissed. But a different kind of hiss to the previous ones, almost feral. It was the most fascinating reaction. One that Kuroo could not understand.

“It stopped, now get off,” Tsukishima suddenly grunted. He almost threw Kuroo off himself in the act of closing his legs. He slid himself backwards on his palms, his face bright red, and hooked both of his arms around his closed legs. Glowering at Kuroo.

“Oi bro, you done?” came a loud shout that belonged to Bokuto as he exited from the changing room. A perfect timing. He could see that the excited boy was all showered and dressed with his gym bag slung over his right shoulder. Akaashi, Oikawa and Iwaizum, together with some of the other teammates came following after him out of the changing room. “Hurry in the shower, I’m thinking Korean BBQ. You wanna come Tsukki? ”

“No,” Tsukishima offered simply, still glowering.

Kuroo took this as his cue to hurry first into the shower and put an end to this whole awkward situation.

\-----

 **Tsukishima.**

It was all a mess. Officially, now everything was a mess. His thoughts were running a mile a minute and he could neither escape them nor make sense of them. He was lying on his bed, his body slumped out in a ridiculous star formation while looking with an empty gaze at the ceiling. He could still feel the lingering touch of Kuroo’s rough hands on his thigh, like the touch had been etched itself into the skin as a permanent mark. Still feel the burning in his cheeks that had refused to calm down since the captain had suggested that Kuroo should give him a massage.. On his thigh of all places. 

It had felt too intimate, too invasive. It made his body react in a way he was not the slightest bit comfortable with nor used to. There was no logical explanation for this reaction. He guessed that he could blame it on the adrenaline still running through his body at that moment. Blame it on the excitement of the match. But something far behind in his mind that he didn’t want to listen to kept telling him that that was not it. That Kuroo’s touch had felt good. But that was impossible. 

Kuroo Tetsuro had given him a massage. A rather painful one he had to add. And he had gotten a hard-on. A hard-on?? It was impossible, yet it happened. 

He threw himself up from the bed and hurried to the bookshelves where he kept his school supplies. Rummaged through the millions of papers and books that had stacked up during these last few months, looking for anything, something where he could write down his thoughts. He was never one to write down what he was thinking, much more comfortable with the suppress and ignore technique. However, this technique seemed not to be possible right now. 

It was too much at once, too much information and thoughts that competed in his brain and it had to be let out in some way or another. His proud nature made it absolutely impossible for him to open up about his thoughts, share, but maybe he could let himself take part in the mess in an organized manner. In writing. After shuffling through what felt like countless of class handouts, he spotted an empty notebook he had intended to use for his maritime law class, but never got around to use as he never paid attention in that particular class. Eying the book for several seconds, he threw the book over at his bed, picked up a blue pen from his pencil case and ~~**flung**~~ sat himself back on the bed. 

Where did he start? How did he start?

He was laying on his stomach on his bed, his calves and feet hoisted up in the air and he was resting his chin on his left palm. He let the pen hovering over the first blank page of his book, scribbling invisible lines and circles in the air. 

Fuck it, he thought and just started to write whatever came to mind. 

_The fact that I have to make use of a diary these days to make sense of reality is beyond humiliating in so many ways and must remain a strictly guarded secret. However, I have come to the logical conclusion that finally having some intellectual conversation, that is to say- with myself, will accumulate the highest percentage in making sense of what is currently raging a confusing war inside my body. Sharing this with the few people I will reluctantly call friends here on paper, and never actually out loud, is and will never be an option due to two very straight forward reasons. Firstly, how would talking to an individual that does not and has not participated in the war and could barely be constituted as a spectator of the whole confusing event have anything intelligent to contribute? Secondly, I would rather die before admitting to any living thing, or dead for that matter -as it still would require me to say it out loud- that Kuroo fucking Tetsuro is making me question anything beyond “How can people be this loud and annoying?” Making me feel anything beyond hatred. Kuroo fuckings Tetsuro, with his stupid bedhead, his annoying smug grin, his obnoxiously loud voice, his stupid cheery personality that does not pick up on any negative social clues- or simply decides to ignore it, his complete lack of personal space, his complete disregard of polite common manners, ** ~~his tanned muscles that threaten to tear the sleaves of those tight black t-shirts that hug him in all the right pla…~~**_

He stared at those words in front of him, mortified by his own words. This was not the direction he was going with this diary entry. This was not where he wanted it to go. He tried to hastily scribble harsh lines over those damn cursed lines, make them disappear. However, the words were etched onto the paper and could still be read behind the thick, dark scribbles. He closed the book quickly, but not before he added a quick self-note, and flung the book under his pillow. 

**note to self:**  
_Use a pencil for the next entry, not a pen_

Those tanned arms. That tight black t-shirt he was wearing that day, that showed off all too much muscle. The one he was wearing as he was etching those fingers into his thigh. Making these godforsaken permanent marks on his skin. The thought brought shivers to his spine, made his toes curl involuntarily. It was all too much and too little at the same time. The memory was so strong in his mind, the memory of all those small movements Kuroo’s fingers had made on his thigh. Shifting between gentle and rough pressures. A tingling feeling as his fingers were moving up his thighs, pushing the material of his shorts upwards. The heat. How his eyes were burning from something more than just embarrassment, something deep within those eyes of midnight. It had been so painful, but something about that pain had morphed, transformed into something else. Something that made his dick twitch in his pants like the fuckings traitor it was. It had reacted so easily, like he was a young teenager again and just discovered masturbation. An urge, a want which had almost disappeared as he grew older. His dick who-

His dick was hard again.

“You gotta be fuckings kidding with me,” Tsukishima grumbled while staring in disbelief at the visible tent in his shorts. 

He flung his head back on the bed again, groaning. Dragging his hands down his face as he could feel his member throb in anticipation for something he did not want to give to it. He was trying to think of everything in which he hated, which mind you was not a short list, everything that could make this curse that had been bestowed upon him to disappear. But nothing seemed to work, his dick too immersed in the memory of the practice space. The memory of heat, of touch, of intimate eyes. Enclosing his body and mind in a dazed, pleasure filled state. And he could feel a backstabbing hand snake itself down his torso. Refusing to listen to common sense. Down his now sensitive torso, and cupping the slightly wet material that was covering his bulge. 

He groaned in response, his body twitching. His body wanted the release, and the logical side of Tsukishima’s brain could not fight it anymore. 

“Fuck,” Tsukishima mumbled as he let his hand sneak under the shorts and underwear, letting his dick feel the first touch of release. He massages his hand over the sensitive bulge in slow circular motions, letting himself feel the urgency of release in which he had not felt in god knows how long. Touching the tip of his swollen dick already leaking with pre-cum, willing himself to only think about the pleasure. Willing himself to shut out the images. The pressure felt so unnaturally good, almost foreign to him.

He finally took his throbbing member fully in his hand, pushing it out of the restrictions of his underwear and tugged in deep, needy motions. Emitting those stifled heavy moans in pleasure that was gnawing on his chest to be released. He closed his eyes and let himself fully succumb to the pleasure of his own hand, switching between tugging at his dick in fast, needy motions and running a teasing thump over the throbbing tip. Spreading pre-come over his dark red member to make it easier to masturbate himself into oblivion.

“Should we order out or do you wanna microwave th-” 

Yamaguchi had strode in. Not expecting a panting Tsukishima to lay sprawled on his bed, tugging at his swollen, leaking dick in desperation. Emitting those embarrassing sounds. Tsukishima had not heard him over the sound of his own pleasure filled mind, over the sound of panting and low moans. He had not seen him through his closed eyes. Only heard him when it was way too late to do any type of rescue operation. He had had no time to react, and now Yamaguchi was staring at him in utter embarrassment. Probably only rivalled by the embarrassment that flared up in his own face.

“I- Uh- Hm, please continue..uhm, eh- pretend I was never here,” Yamaguchi squicked and turned around on his heel. Leaving the room with a loud slam of the door. 

Tsukishima hurried to tug his dick back in his pants, mortification laying as a heavy blanket over his mind. All desire to jerk off gone.

Fuck, Tsukishma though again, fuck fuck fuck.

He then decided that adrenaline and injury is a dangerous mix. Refusing to give another explanation to himself. Refusing to listen to disagreeing voices. That was the only explanation that made sense. He had had way too much adrenaline running through his body during the match, and the injury made him unable to finish playing. Leaving him with excess energy. This was why he had been hard.  


And after he had calmed down, he swore to murder Yamaguchi was next on his to-do list.


	7. Shattered glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Kuroo and Tsukki being idiots part 7

**Shattered Glass**

**Tsukishima.**

The day following the most mortifying moment in his 18 years old life could be postponed indefinitely if it were up to Tsukishima. The moment where Yamaguchi had walked in on him while stroking his dick desperately, moaning under his breath in pleasure. The shock of getting caught had rendered him into an absolute embarrassed mess. Disturbing him into the core of his very being. He had been so immensely clueless, naive when he believed that yesterday could not have gotten worse, when nothing worse could happen after that massage. How very wrong he had been. This situation was so much worse. 

Since yesterday, he had not taken one single step out that bedroom door. Not to eat, shower, brush his teeth, nothing. Just holed himself up in his room, spending all of Thursday evening trying to figure out whether his best course of events should be to move to a deserted far-away place without internet or other people that could look upon his shameful face. Was it a drastic measure? Yes, he was very aware of that. But in the moment of absolute panic, it had felt necessary. The only option to avoid facing Yamaguchi.

He had calmed down considerably since the previous day. Abandoned his plan to move away and never look back. He was currently more in the state of ‘how long can I stay in my room before I die of starvation’. Which actually did not seem too far away at the moment as he had gone to bed without eating anything after the match, the massage, the terrified run home and the following shitstorm that had happened at home. His stomach was protesting loudly against the emptiness it felt. Growling every minute or so, reminding Tsukishima that it was only a matter of time before he had to give in and walk out that bedroom door. Face Yamaguchi. 

Why was it Friday? Why did Yamaguchi not have classes on fridays? Why did he not have any excuse at all to leave the apartment so Tsukishima could slip into the kitchen and hamster food and water for the next week or so in his room?

He could hear the TV from outside his bedroom door. Hear the flickering of channels and the buzzing of shifting voices from the small box. A confirmation that Yamaguchi was sitting right outside that bedroom door, in that couch that was conveniently placed only 2-3 meters away from his door. He could hear Yamaguchi yawning tiredly, making Tsukishima question whether the imagery of last night had disturbed his shorter friend to a point where he could not sleep. After all, trying to imagine Yamaguchi in the same position activated shrieking alarm bells in his brain, plastered his imagination with signs in big, red, bold letters spelling ‘Keep Out’. 

As the hours kept passing, Tsukishima continued to lay motionless on his bed. He was trying to refrain from moving. Trying to not spend those few drops of energy left in his tank for unnecessary movements. Trying to avoid the shooting pain in his abdomen with every small move of his body. Laying in that stupid star formation that reminded him too much of how he lay before everything bad turned worse yesterday. Reminded him how hot his skin was, how penetrating Kuroo’s touch felt, how pleasure had rippled through every pore of his body...…  
…..How that sentence was not a good enough reason to use the word penetration. 

Fuck, Tsukishima thought for what would have to be the 100th time since yesterday.

It was getting dangerous to continue laying there as well. Continue to remember, to linger on those moments that caused the reason he was laying there in the first place. It was like no matter what he did, he could not win. 

His train of thought had one positive outcome however. 

Finally he could come to the conclusion that facing Yamaguchi was better than developing another boner while the hunger sent daggers through his stomach. While thinking of Kuroo’s touch. 

He raised himself up from the bed and shuffled hesitantly towards the door. Approaching the door, he took a deep breath while his hand lingering on the door handle. Put his forehead on the hard surface and closed his eyes, feeling the cold wood against his hot skin, letting himself properly feel his hunger for one moment longer. All to give himself that last motivating push to open that dismal door, to stop running away. 

Opening his eyes, he pushed down the handle of the door and stepped out to face Yamaguchi.

It was like the air automatically transformed as he entered the room, thickening nauseatingly. Tense and heavy. Yamaguchi was standing in the entrance of the small kitchen, staring back at Tsukishima as he held his breath in surprise, embarrassment.  
Quickly drawing his eyes away, focusing intensely at the floor. 

A heavy gray blanket hung over the pair that refused to look at each other. And it seemed like an eternity where they simply stood rooted to the ground, trapped in the awkwardness of it all. 

However, give it to Yamaguchi to be the one to fix things. To be the larger person of the pair, to make things right, to speak.

“Gad, we are making a too big deal out of this,'' Yamaguchi said with an embarrassed, slightly weak voice as he broke the tense silence. His lips were turned up into a weird sort-of smile and he kept tugging at his intertwined thumbs. 

Tsukishima did not say anything. Did not know what to say. The mortification doubled in the pit of his stomach by seeing Yamaguchi’s face again, of Yamaguchi acknowledging what happened yesterday. Mixing with the hunger related pain and made him feel like he needed to throw up. 

“We all do it, so.. yeah, don’t sweat it Tsukki,” Yamaguchi continued, seemingly understanding that Tsukishima was not to answer anytime soon. “I have some take-out you can heat up in the microwave, you haven't eaten right?”

Opting to continue to not say anything, Tsukishima passed Yamaguchi in silence, without looking at him, and went to the kitchen to do exactly that. To heat up some food, put fuel into his system before he could even think of dealing with anything in a civilized manner.

“Thanks,” Tsukishima grumbled as he plopped himself down on the couch some 15 minutes later after having stifled the hunger in his body. Now that his body was not screaming in alarm, he had calmed down enough to feel shitty about his own attitude. And even a bit guilty for exposing poor Yamaguchi to such indecent imagery. “...and sorry” he added so carefully it was almost inaudible. 

“I mean, it was bound to happen at some point. Wasn't it?” Yamaguchi shrugged, seemingly having calmed down from the initial shock and embarrassment. He took a sip of the cola he had gotten from the fridge earlier when Tsukishima had entered the room and muted the television. However, he continued to look at the flickering imagery of the screen instead of Tsukishima.

“Though I think maybe knocking is a good idea in the future,” he said with a small laugh, one that left the uncomfortableness of it all behind them. 

“I think so too,” said Tsukishima agreeing, the only thing he could think of at that moment. 

“Though…” Yamaguchi started, and it was clear from the playful, sly tone of it that Yamaguchi was going to say something he would not like. Recognizing the body language, the tone, the smirk that painted Yamaguchi at that moment too well. “Don’t you have a girlfriend for that kind of stuff?” 

“Eat shit and die,” Tsukishima growled and pushed his friend on the upper arm, tipping a laughing Yamaguchi over at his side. 

\------

It had been a bit over a week since what Tsukishima had come to label the day of absolute dread. He had marked it off on his calendar, 21st of May, and put a reminder on his phone to pay one minute silent respect for the death of his dignity the next year on that date. Marking it simply with ‘RIP Dignity’. 

The day after the whole incident, Tsukishima had skipped out on volleyball practice. Partly due to the continued existence of Yamaguchi in the living room and partly due to the fact that he had no idea how to face Kuroo. It had suddenly become clear to Tsukishima that it was highly likely that Kuroo had seen or realized what had happened. Understood how Tsukishima was feeling during that massage, what grew between his tense legs.

Understood and simply waited for the perfect moment to bring it up, to make fun of him. And he knew that nobody would believe him if he told them that it was only a natural reaction to the adrenaline, the excitement of the game. At that moment, it would simply sound like an embarrassed excuse. Anything really would sound like an excuse. He also understood that he could not avoid going to practice forever …. or he could but he didn’t want that. But just for one day, he wanted to keep pushing the unavoidable further back in his calendar. 

However, it seemed like Tsukishima had worried for nothing. No snide remark came his way when he entered the gym that following Saturday. Nor was he encircled by the volleyball team members, taunting him, asking him why he had gotten a hard-on while a guy was giving him a massage. That is not to say he was sure Kuroo had not noticed anything, but maybe he was a decent enough person to not spread such information around. Maybe.

It seemed though that they had gone into a silent agreement to pretend that nothing happened that day. That that day never happened at all. Tearing down most of the walls of awkwardness that Tsukishima had built up inside, Kuroo being back to being the annoying, grinning shit he had learned to accept as a stable presence in his life. 

That annoying grinning shit that was blocking with such graze, moving in sync with the game in front of him. Sniggering at every success, exuberating confidence in his passion. Tsukishima was looking at how everything that was annoying with Kuroo was at the same become amusing, familiar, there he sat drinking from his water bottle at the side-bench all mindlessly. Not realizing how his eyes were lacking the natural annoyed wrinkles that usually encased them, how his mouth was drawn out in a gentle smile. Mindlessly… a term that had become more and more normal for the younger boy.

“You’re smiling,“ commented Akaashi from his left side with a monotone voice. Though despite the monotone tone, his voice carried some form of unfamiliar smugness. Unfamiliar because Akaashi did not do smug. Or at least not before now.

Tsukishima jumped in his seat from surprise. Not having noticed that Akaashi was next to him. His heart beating hard in his chest from the shock, his smile turned into a frown faster than a blink of an eye. Though Tsukishima would deny it to his grave that he had actually been smiling, both to others and to himself.

“Akaashi-san, can you please not startle me like that,” Tsukishima grumbled, turning his locked gaze from Kuroo to the boy next to him. Scrunching his brows in a displeased manner. 

Akaashi looked nothing out of the ordinary, his face held that same neutral expression where he stood in his normal gym wear. Like all the times he was dropping shit bombs that Tsukishima would rather not hear.

“And I would hardly call that a smile,” he added in a dry manner. 

“Not my fault your mind was occupied with non volleyball related matters,” Akaashi shrugged. Removing some wet hair that stuck to his sweaty forehead with his hand. 

“You certainly set a lot in store for your mind reading abilities Akaashi-san,” Tsukishima said sarcastically, feeling the anger boiling inside him from being fed up with his cryptic messages. Though his face did not show it, he was not far from breaking point. 

“Don’t need mind reading abilities when you are sitting here and smiling for yourself,”

“Believe what you want,” he grumbled, looking away sourly.

Nothing more was said. Tsukishima knew that nothing he could say would change Akaashi’s mind. Make him stop over analyzing every little movement, stop him from making connections with stuff that was not connected. He would simply have to learn to ignore him, shut his comments out. Which did not become too difficult at that moment because Kuroo turned towards him, looked at him. 

Kuroo gave him one of his smug, annoying grins. Tsukishima knew he was challenging him. His eyebrows were raised and his eyes were asking ‘tired already?’, telling him to come and try to block better than him. 

Which was what he did. He stood up, left the conversation behind him and ran back to the court to show exactly who had improved the most. Who had become the better one. So ready to stand next to Kuroo, to feel the electricity between them. 

The exhaustion from practice tore at his body after hours of continuous practice. Continuous fire-filled competition of showing who was the best blocker on the team. Making him dread the hours of studying he would have to cram into his day before Yui would come over later. It was hardly 12 pm, but early morning practice was always somewhat harder than anything else. However, he managed to force his tired legs into the locker room shower, changed and dragged himself home. 

Kuroo and Bokuto had not accompanied him on this occasion as the duo had plans to practice some further. Seemingly not as worried about their upcoming exams. 

However, walking home alone did not mean he was free of Kuroo. Halfway on his way home, his phone had vibrated.

 **Stupid #1 (12:12):** Totally beat you today btw, cute you think you are at my level yet

Tsukishima tsk’ed by himself, rolling his eyes before answering.

 **(12:13):** Nobody likes a gloater Kuroo-san  
**(12:13):** But you are wrong

**Stupid #1 (12:14):** cute

Tsukishima wondered suddenly if he could damage his already bad-sighed eyes even more from all the eye-rolling he did when it came to the older guy. Or if a blush could become permanent.

 **(12:15):** Kuroo-san, if you keep calling me cute i’ll think you are interested in me.

**Stupid #1 (12:16):** adkoh

Tsukishima sniggered for himself, letting the quiet sound out into his left closed fist covering his mouth as he was looking down at the phone. Kuroo had obviously been so shocked that he had sent an accidental text. The imagined look on Kuroo’s face was just oh so amusing to Tsukishima, bathing in the fact that he could affect Kuroo as well. It was not only the other way around. 

Kuroo did not send more texts after that. 

\----

“Yui is coming over today, isn’t she?” Yamaguchi called out from the kitchen as he was warming up some left over that Yachi had brought over the previous day in the microwave. 

Yachi had begun to become more and more concerned with the microwaved based diet in which the duo had been living on since moving to Tokyo, and thus she had opted for stealing Yamaguchi’s credit card a couple of times a week to shop groceries and make some meals for them. Leaving enough for them to warm up the following day. 

The three of them had a quiet day in the previous day, watching movies and playing board games to rid themselves of the stress of upcoming exams and other stress related matters in their own respective lives. Pretending that everything was as normal with Kuroo was one of those matters in Tsukishima’s case. Still figuring out what was normal. 

Yui had texted him during a game of monopoly. He’s battleship playing piece was stuck in jail, leaving him time to sneak a look at his phone as it had signaled incoming messages several minutes previous. 

**Yui (21:32):** Hey, are you up?  
**Yui (21:35):** Are you home tomorrow?  
**Yui (21:37):** If you are, can I come over around 6-7?  
**Yui (21:39):** I need to talk to you

“Yeah, she said we needed to talk,” Tsukishima answered from the couch where he was flicking through pages of dry law and case studies for his upcoming exam. 

Working hard to cram as much time to go over the material as he possibly could. Already struggling to balance everything he needed to do between classes, volleyball practice, practice matches and ‘socializing’. Juggling too many balls in the air at once, but he would not change it for anything. 

He was lying with his back towards the couch arm, his back supported by a pillow and his legs crouched up in front of him. Wrinkling his brows as he was trying to understand the difference between the panel’s decision and the appellate body’s decision in the U.S-Copyright Act dispute with the European Union. Studying all the carefully measured laws and regulations, trying to make sense of the difficult language.

“Sounds serious,” Yamaguchi commented as he stuck his head out of the kitchen, looking at Tsukishima with gentle concern. 

“I doubt it,” Tsukishima mumbled, his mind not really committed to the conversation as laws and regulations were clouding his mind with a thick porridge of information. Having no extra capacity to ponder too much about what Yui wanted to talk about. After all, no matter of pondering would provide him with the answer. 

“Hmmm,” Yamaguchi simply answered as he stuck his head back into the kitchen.

It didn't, however, take long before he re-appeared with a plate of food and a glass of soda in his hand. He placed them carefully on the small dining table, before he placed himself at the other end of the couch. Crossing his legs, placing his feet in his hands and looking expectantly at Tsukishima.

Tsukishima could feel the drilling gaze of Yamaguchi on his forehead, trying to catch his eyes that were busy with the book in front of him. He sighed, not looking up.

“What? I’m trying to study here,” Tsukishima said, a bit irritated. He had a million things to go through before Yui would come over later that day and he felt that he had very little patience for Yamaguchi’s worries. 

“Sorry Tsukki,” Yamaguchi replied quietly and Tsukishima could see that he was casting a hurt puppy look down as he glanced up in response to the words that belonged to the past.

He sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Out with it, what’s on your mind?” Tsukishima commanded mildly, fully looking at his friend now. 

Yamaguchi shifted a bit where he sat, looking like he maybe regretted bringing up the subject at all. Pulling at his toes in his hands, his motions either uncomfortable or uncertain. He finally looked back up at his blonde friend again, his whole demeanor reminding Tsukishima so much of the boy Yamaguchi had once been. So careful, terrified of saying something that would offend or make Tsukishima mad. Always following along at Tsukishima’s pace.

“It’s just….” Yamaguchi started, struggling with finding the right words.”You know…” he tried again and Tsukishima could not fathom what was so difficult to say. What could possibly be more difficult to say than all those daring, bullshit comments he had started to spew unfiltered out over the last couple or so years.

“You know what ‘we need to talk’ usually means, don’t you?” Yamaguchi finally pressed out, looking so earnestly at Tsukishima that he could not just scoff away the question.

“Yes?” Tsukishima asked, a bit confused. Tsukishima knew he struggled with social interactions, but he was not stupid either. He had read a book, he had visited the internet. It was not like he was living under a rock. “But she didn’t write ‘We need to talk’, she simply said that she needed to talk to me,”

This made Yamaguchi’s face scrunch up in annoyance and he directed a semi light irritated kick to Tsukishima’s calf. It did not hurt per se, but it left a sore after-print.

“What the fuck Yamaguchi?” Tsukishima asked, looking incredulous at his shorter friend. Childishly kicking back, but more carefully.

“Say that before I start to worry, you dumbass,” Yamaguchi whined, probably feeling slightly embarrassed by his overreaction. Kicking back again, which resulted in an almost all out wrestling match until the two of them fell laughing out of the couch. Or more precisely, Yamaguchi was laughing and Tsukishima had his facial expression forced into a sour expression that tried to suppress the contagious nature of Yamaguchi’s laugh. But the shorter boy knew perfectly well by now that this expression was the equivalent of Tsukishima laughing. 

After that embarrassing display of childish playfulness, they went back to their respective activities. Filling the Saturday afternoon with comfortable silent companionship. 

The studying was interrupted by the sound of a soft knock on the hard metal of their front door. The sound splitting the comfortable silence of the apartment, the calm air that had encased them for the last few hours. The time had gotten lost to Tsukishima. His intense concentration on the subject at hand took his mind off everything else, of the time, of his plans. Making him forget in that moment that his girlfriend was actually coming over.

“Yamaguchi, answer the door,” Tsukishima mumbled the order towards his shorter friend that was working on his own subjects on the bean bag at his left side. Absentmindedly flickering through his law notes, comparing them to the PPT from the previous class on his computer. 

“I think it's Yui though,” Yamagucghi answered back, looking a bit confused up on Tsukishima on the couch.

“Ah…” Tsukishima let slip out in a rare dumb moment. Closing his computer in front of him and stacking his notes and book neatly on top as he suddenly remembered his appointment for the day. 

While dusting off some chips crumbles from earlier snacking from his joggers, he spent a couple of seconds wondering if he should have changed before his girlfriend came over. That was initially his plan, but forgot together with everything else. 

“Are you planning to make me wait forever?” shouted the voice of Yui from outside the door.

“Coming,” Tsukishima voiced back and forced his stiff and still tired legs towards the front door, opening it.

“If you could have just admitted that last time we did it,” Yui said teasingly as she came into view when Tsukishima opened the door.

She was standing there, her dark hair as not as unruly as it usually was, contrasting with the familiarity of those shining eyes of bright optimism and playfulness. She was wearing more makeup than usual, her cheeks covered in a peach blush and her eyes were drawn sharp with dark eyeliner. She was wearing a small black dress, forming beautifully around her prominent curves with matching black ballerina shoes that lazed her trained calves in dark shoelaces. Making Tsukishima feel slightly worse about his plain white t-shirt and chips dusted joggers.

Her comment however made his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, taking several seconds to understand the crudeness of the comment.

“Funny,” Tsukishima commented dryly.

The topic of their sex life was not that common between them, so it felt unfamiliar to walk down that path. It was not like it was non existent, just.. Tsukishima had a very low sex drive and Yui rarely brought it up. She always seemed more interested in other people’s sex life than their own. 

“You look nice,” Tsukishima added as he took his time to look more closely at her appearance, gliding his eyes up and down her appearance more carefully. Taking in more small details, like the hooped silver earrings dangling from her ears and her gray painted nails. 

“Thanks,” she answered brightly to the compliment while giving the taller boy a short hug. “You gonna let me in?” she asked, raising an eyebrow with a smile. 

“You never needed a permission before,” Tsukishima deadpanned, huffing as he crossed his arms and leaned his back towards the door frame to let Yui pass. 

Yui passed him with a slight double pat on his shoulder and entered the living room with an enthusiastic greeting in Yamaguchi’s direction. Tsukishima closed the door and followed her back in. 

“You look nice Yui, going somewhere later?” Yamaguchi asked with a look of surprise, not used to seeing the girl all done up. 

“Can you believe it, Tsukishima said the same? Thanks though,” she sniggered while side eyeing Tsukishima next to her. Yamaguchi joined in on the sniggering, clearly amused by the rare show of affection from Tsukishima. “I’m meeting Ayako and the girls later today, we are celebrating,”

“Celebrating?” Tsukishima asked, cocking his head. “Think your priorities are a bit twisted when it is only two weeks until exams,” Tsukishima jabbed teasingly, composing a leering smile.

“I’ll tell you later,” she said shortly, completely ignoring his teasing. Her expression had suddenly changed, like a light switch had been turned off, almost like she was a bit nervous. Playing with the hem of the short dress she was wearing in a manner that reminded him how Kuroo had played with his own t-shirt that day his dignity died. Biting slightly at her red painted lower lip. This reaction was quite unexpected and more importantly unusual with the confident girl that was his girlfriend. Tsukishima was taken aback, confused. She always bickered back...but not now.

It seemed like Tsukishima was not the only one surprised by the change of tone in the girl. Yamaguchi looked between them with a huge question mark written on his face, eyes large and searching. Their eyes met for a second, the best friends exchanging a silent conversation between them. ‘What's with her?’ being the big question.

“S-should I maybe...go?” Yamaguchi asked in an unsure voice, like he was struggling with doing what was most polite and not wanting to leave Tsukishima alone with her when she was acting all different. When her mood changed with a snap of fingers. 

He hinted his head towards his bedroom, asking silently if he should leave them be and escape to his own bedroom. For some reason, Tsukishima did not want him to leave. Yamaguchi was safe and this different Yui was not. It was new and Tsukishima was never good with changes. 

“You look busy with your stuff over there,” she commented, smiling a tight smile as if trying to hide what her face really wanted to show. 

What had suddenly happened? 

“We can go to Tsukishima’s room,” 

Tsukishima’s stomach twisted uncomfortably at the idea of migrating to his bedroom. The whole situation had already become so uncomfortable and taking her to the most private part of his life, his room, just enhanced this feeling. The place he had previously shared intimacy with the girl in front of him, just another version of her. The place where he had touched himself while remembering the touch of another person, another guy. It just felt...wrong.

But did he really have any choice?

She was just standing there, shuffling her legs, her eyes lacking the brightness from only moments earlier. He looked back at her, unable to conceal all of his confusion on his face. His guard was screaming to be put back on, to protect his emotions from the unknown, from others, from her. But his guard had not really been working as it should have lately.

Not since he met those eyes of dark midnight all those months ago in that dark lit cafe. Those eyes, those smug lips that would slowly turn his whole world on his head, rendering him to a constant weak and confused being. Filling him with unwanted questions, undiscovered emotions which heavied him down and at the same time made him feel a million times lighter. With Kuroo… it was a constant of contrasts. 

He had not noticed that he had followed the girl into his room. His mind too occupied with thoughts of a certain black haired male, one that would rarely stay away too long at a time. Always looming in the back. The sound of his door closing behind him brought him back to reality, his eyes finding the back of Yui as she walked past him without looking at him. 

Instead, she looked at the room as a whole, taking it in as she never had seen it. Walking slowly as her fingertips were grazing over his dresser, desk, bookcases and shelves. Touching it lightly, seemingly studying everything in detail as she was looking for what to say. 

She stopped by his dinosaur shelf, picking up a stegosaurus plastic figurine and turning it around in her hands, sighing. 

“So this is what you have been hiding under that sheet all this time,” she commented silently, a small smile grazing her lips. A very different smile than all her other wide smiles of pure sunshine. Her eyes were almost sad.

At any other circumstances, he would have panicked. His pride would have screamed in protest, hurting for being exposed like that. His childish obsession revealed. He would have hated himself for forgetting that he was getting a guest over. Not thinking that they may possibly use his room. 

But not today. Not when Yui’s eyes were so sad, her lips so foreign. Not when something more important than a small jab to his pride was about to unfold. All of his bodily instincts were telling him so. 

Silence fell between them. Nobody seemed to find the right words, how to start a conversation. How to start the mystery conversation Yui obviously needed to have with him, but didn't know how. Rendering them to stand two and a half meter a part, just standing there. Tsukishima with his gaze locked on the shorter girl, analyzing her, looking for answers in her face. Yui with her eyes locked on the small dinosaur, stroking her thumb over the rigged back. 

They kept themselves in that unbearable stalemate. Unable to either step back or forth for who knows how long, but it felt like forever. Before Yui let out a slight awkward chuckle, scratching at the back of her left hand after placing the plastic toy back at the shelve. Looking over the other displayed figurines.

“I would have been so happy to see this just a bit earlier,” she mumbled absentmindedly. 

Not understanding what she was talking about, nor where this whole conversation was supposed to go, he stayed silent. Not ready to say something when he could not see the direction. Not willing to risk being wrong or sounding vulnerable.

“Fuck, I’m not good at this serious stuff when its not school stuff,” she cursed as she shook her head, voice tinted of slight irritation. 

Tsukishima felt the frustration in him grow as she kept saying sentences that made no sense, that he had no answer for. He could not read her expression, read what she was thinking. And he simply could not get himself to say anything before his girlfriend could offer him something clear, something lacking all these dubious connotations. 

She let her fingers drop from the dinosaurs again, hanging loosely at her side as she moved towards the bed. Tsukishima’s eyes were following her, his eyes empty as she sat down at the foot-end of the bed, patting at the seat next to her.

“Come sit next to me,” she said quietly, still with that confusing tone and expression.

Tsukishima did as she said, feeling as his voice was sliding further and further away. Taking the express train to far far away. 

“I guess it was a bit optimistic of me to hope you would indulge in some small talk to make things easier,” she sighed, leaning back on her hands. Looking up at the ceiling as she balanced her upper-body weight on her outstretched arms. Dangling her long legs off the bed.

“You think?” answered Tsukishima simply, his voice sounding weird in his throat. It was such a typical sassy thing for Tsukishima to comment, but the tone did not convey it as he usually would. He was serious, confused, guarded and that was what his tone openly conveyed. 

“Let’s end things between us here,” Yui suddenly said, her voice certain and clear. She was looking at him now, her wet eyes blurring the sad and at the same time determined look on her face.

Tsukishima was not sure how to react. It came as a shock, was sudden, unexpected. This outcome was supposed to only be Yamaguchi’s overthinking, him overreacting. They were fine last time they met, last time they spoke. So how could he have predicted this? 

He could not pretend to not understand, pretend the words spoken by Yui were vague. There was no need to clarify what she said. What she meant. Not being able to pretend not to understand her words made an overwhelming feeling of sadness wash over him. Sadness for losing one of his best friends. One of the few people he could rely on, be comfortable with. Then it was anger.

“So, you are going out to celebrate that you ended things between us? Wow, I would never have expected that of you,” Tsukishima spat out in a mix of mad laughter and a rage- filled voice. His pride was scratching literal blood marks at the inside of his chest, tugging at his heart and making it hard to breathe. She was sitting in front of him and making fun of him. Having found their whole relationship a joke. She had looked down on him and now she was going to celebrate crushing him. Knowing too well his fragile pride.

“N-no, I’ll explain all that later .. but,” she exclaimed in panic, looking at him with tears streaming down her face and her arms waving desperately in front of her. “Just hear me out first,” she said, almost begging.

His whole body, his anger, his clawing pride, his fight or flight response were all pushing for him to get away. To get her out of his apartment as fast as possible, throw her out, slam the door in her face and never to associate himself with anybody that may know somebody that his girlfriend knew. No.. his ex girlfriend. 

However, there was something behind those tears that told him to take a deep breath, endure the pain, hear her out. There was something there that the logical side of his brain could not ignore. So he sat still, almost frozen in place and nodded stiffly.

“I do not think you love me,” she started carefully.

“I care for you,” Tsukishima responded, almost automatically. Automatically because that’s the response he always gave himself when somewhere in him told him that he did not love her, did not have romantic interest for her.

“I know, and I for you,” she continued, straightening her back and started again to pluck at the end of her dress. Seemingly unable to keep still, her hands had to be occupied. Tsukishima sent her a skeptical look and at this she reacted surprisingly. Her gaze got hard, almost angry.

“You fuckings well know I care a lot for you!” she growled, drying some tears that were dripping from her eyes. “That’s why this is so hard for me. I am afraid of losing you, that's the last thing I want. You are one of my best friends, but I think I have fallen out of love with you. And I do not think you ever fell in love with me,”

“So what are you saying?” Tsukishima asked, feeling a bit lost from all the shifting emotions of the room. Fear, anger, hurt, care, uncertainty, all mixing together, fluctuating between the multiple options. 

“What I’m saying blockhead, is that I do not want to lose you as a friend. As my best friend. That I don’t want to hurt you, that I care for you so much. But not as my boyfriend anymore,” she said with such strong conviction that Tsukishima could not do anything other than believe her. Believe that she meant well. 

And when the fear of losing one of his best friends disappeared, so did all those other mixed emotions. He was not hurt, sad, heartbroken. Just...relieved? He then really understood, really understood that his feelings for her were never romantic from the start. He had been interested in the thought of a romantic interest. Before she confessed to him, he had never seen her in a romantic light. But her confession made him curious, curious to the point he had ended up fooling himself.

Tsukishima sighed, a minuscule smile now playing on his lips as he turned his gaze away from her. Looking at nothing in particular and shaking his head. Relief hitting him as a fresh wave, cleansing any residue of sadness and anger.

“I guess it will be my job from now on to quality check the guys around you,” Tsukishima said, a bit of humor now coloring his language and tone. 

Yui looked surprised for only half a second, before breaking out in laughter. Her whole body falling down on the mattress in relief.

“Thank you Tsukki,” she said quietly. And suddenly he did not mind her calling him his nickname. It did not feel too personal anymore, too close, too invading. Because a heavy blanket of unknown burdens, a whole category of unanswered, nagging questions, had evaporated. Like suddenly life made a little more sense. 

“So, why are you celebrating tonight if it is not for getting rid of your ass of an ex boyfriend?” Tsukishima asked, leaning his upper body on his right arm, looking down at Yui where she lay with her bright smile back on her face. Raising his eyebrow.

“Ahh,” Yui exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she remembered something important. She quickly sat up in the bed, knotting her legs in front her and rested her arms at her knees. “Ayako is breaking up with Kuroo tonight. She finally gonna leave that piece of shit. We kinda uh, came to a realization together that we both are in relationships that are not working. For different reasons naturally,”

Tsukishima was a bit taken aback at this statement. Kuroo was also losing his girlfriend today? Ayako, who had for so many months now refused to see how Kuroo was actually treating her, had chosen today. The same day as Yui. 

Was Kuroo sitting on the other side of this wall right now? Getting his heart broken right now? He wanted to stretch out his hand, touch the wall, touch the surface and feel it. Feel if he could feel Kuroo on the other side. No matter how stupid that thought was, he wanted to reach him from where he was sitting. 

Tsukishima bit his under lip, his gaze lingering on the wall separating 906 and 907. He knew that if Kuroo had been in front of him, he would put up enough walls for him to appear unaffected. His natural defenses, his wall separating his real emotions from Kuroo. Hiding that he cared. But now that there was an actual wall separating them, that Kuroo was not here, he wanted to reach him. 

“Hello? Did you hear me just now? That jerk is getting a well deserved wake up call,” she said, studying the weird display of movements and eye emotions from Tsukishima. She had heard Tsukishima complain about Kuroo so many times, probably expecting at this point for the blonde to be happy about Kuroo hurting.

“He is actually not that bad,” Tsukishima said absentmindedly, still focused on the thought of Kuroo. Kuroo on the other side of the wall. How Kuroo was feeling right now. What he was thinking.

Tsukishima could however not continue that path of thinking as Yui had grabbed him around his shoulders and started to shake him almost violently when she registered what he was saying. Her eyes staring at him in disbelief.

“What?” she basically shrieked. “You have been talking shit about the guy since February, you could not stand each other. What the hell happened?” 

“I guess things change when you play on a team together,” he mumbled, trying to play off his slip casually. Though his slight blush might have exposed him. But what it exposed, Tsukishima himself had not figured out yet.

“Bullshit, you played with Kageyama for 3 years and you would still rather die than say something nice about him,” she said accusingly, wrinkling her nose. 

“Leave it,” Tsukishima answered more strictly, with finality. His face felt as if it was burning him alive and he turned his head away from her so she could not see him. He hated how people were making him think of Kuroo even more than he already was, leaving him with more questions. Making him aware of how few answers he had. 

Was Kuroo a friend now? He didn’t know. It felt wrong to call him a friend, the word feeling nauseating, empty in his stomach. They could after all, as Yui just said, not stand each other some months back. It was not that weird that it felt weird to call him a friend.

“Fine,” she answered shortly, her eyes boring into the back of his head. Tsukishima could basically feel how it burned, intensely. “I should go. I’m gonna meet Yui at the park nearby when we are done, and considering her’s will probably be more dramatic than mine I don’t want her to be the one waiting,” she said easily, as if they did not just break up and raised herself up from the bed. “Don’t be a stranger, ok?” she asked with a smile.

Tsukishima had looked up at her, his blush momentarily forgotten as she announced her departure so suddenly. However, if she noticed, one could not tell from her face.

“Ok,” Tsukishima answered shortly and watched as she left out the door with a comfortable, familiar smile and a wave.

**Kuroo.**

Kuroo was terrified. That was the best way to explain the most prominent of all the emotions that were welling up inside of him. Terrified of the repercussions of this moment. Of his reputation, of his lost opportunities, of his feelings, of his secret. 

His reputation that he had worked so hard to build up over the last 2 and a half years. The tanned sportsman with charming smirks and friendly, yet cool personality. The one who captured the heart of Ayako, the prettiest girl on campus, the sweetest girl. The one rumored to be the next volleyball captain next year, his senior year, due to his superior social and motivation skills. Who knew what the younger girl could say to ruin all that in her anger?

His imagined opportunities of finally falling in love, of everything falling into place. That this dying candle of love that had existed in him for as long as he could remember, or willed himself to remember, would ignite tall flames.The opportunity for love songs to make sense, for love letters to be romantic, for romantic movies to be realistic. To be normal.

His feelings that told him that he was not heartbroken, not sad, not crushed. He was relieved behind the fear, and feared why he was relieved. It meant the end of pretend. The pretend in which he was slowly but steadily becoming worse and worse at maintaining. Taking out his frustration of caging his own feelings over and over again, refusing to listen or acknowledge them, on his girlfriend. Because that was so much easier.

His secret. One that could never get out. One that seemed impossible to fix. He had been to the doctor. He had been to several doctors. They all said the same, that it was all in his head and there was nothing physically wrong with him. But Kuroo did not know what could possibly be in his head that caused such a problem, and he had naturally declined the offer of counseling to help him. His secret that would above all other shitty things he had done and said to the girl be what destroyed his reputation.

This was all the things that was going through his head, his body, while he was staring in disbelief at the girl in front of him. At Ayako. She was sitting right in front of him with tears streaming almost violently down her pale face from puffed, red eyes of dark hazel. Dark hazel that emitted both anger, betrayal and hurt. 

Her body was almost shrinking in on itself, minimizing its surface level, almost like she was afraid of being physically hurt. Her mouth swollen from nervous biting. Still, she was as beautiful as ever with her hair of golden sunlight, captivating features and delicate curves. But as usual, her display of beauty was no more than a point of admiration. Not attraction. 

She had shown up on his door after 3-4 weeks of next to no contact, his mind having been too busy with his other priorities. She looked determined, angry. Kuroo had known in less than a second that he was in trouble, but never had he imagined that she would actually break up with him. Not after she had forgiven him a million times before, loved him unconditionally, continued to look at him with those adoring eyes. 

But she had screamed at him, cried, laughed in disbelief and held uncomfortable silences. Hitting him with hard truth. Hard truth of what a horrible person he had become with her and he had nothing to defend himself with. Had no right to defend himself. Only had to sit there and take it, apologize to her. He did feel bad, his apology was sincere but his panic, his fear was still the more prominent emotion than regret. 

And now she had said those final words, those final words about the end. Ending a relationship that had lasted for more than a year. Which was kinda incredible in itself when Kuroo thought about it. That he had managed to keep leading her on for such a long time. That she could stand him, forgive him for so long. 

He wanted to ask her whether she would spread anything about him, tell about him to other people in her anger. But even Kuroo was not douche enough to make this break up about his own selfish fears. Opting for keeping them bottled up, ready to spill when she left. 

“Well, I’ve said what I came here to say,” Ayako finally said after an awkward pause that felt suffocating. She sighed tiredly, flicking her gaze to the ground and she looked so fragile at that moment. “Yui is probably waiting for me. It probably did not take as long on her end,” she added, raising herself from the couch. 

“It?” Kuroo croaked out in a harsh, dry voice. His own eyes bloodshot and tired from the inner turmoil. 

“She is breaking up with Tsukishima as well,” she answered curtly, seemingly having no energy to be directly polite at that moment. 

“Ahh…” Kuroo answered dumbly, his mind starting to spin fast with a quick, confusing myriad of entering thoughts. Too much, too many to make sense of anything.

“Goodbye Kuroo,” she said with such a firm and sad voice that there was no question that this was the end. No way back. She turned around and left his apartment, never looking back. Never wanting to see him again 

“Goodbye Ayako,” he answered weakly after her, but he was almost sure that she had not heard him. 

Bokuto had come home from a couple of errands after practice an hour later with a bright ‘Hey Hey Hey’, but his brightness had dimmed quickly as he saw Kuroo lying like a frozen vegetable on the floor with blank eyes. He had asked what was wrong with the most concerned, earnest eyes. It had taken Kuroo a while to answer, his throat feeling rasp and dry. But when he had answered, it was a simple, empty response,

“Ayako broke up with me,”

Bokuto was not the brightest of people but he knew that Kuroo was not in love with the girl and that his vegetable state had most likely something to do with his fears. He thus did not give an answer immediately. He laid himself down on the floor next to Kuroo, folding his arms on his stomach and looked silently up at the ceiling for a long time. Just lying next to each other on the hard floor.

“I could say I’ve seen it work if rumours get out,” Bokuto offered with a thoughtful expression after a 20 or something minutes of silent breathing sounds filling the room.

This made Kuroo turn his head to the side at an almost dangerous speed, looking incredulously at Bokuto next to him. An effective comment to bring him out of his head.

“Man what the fuck, do you realize how gay that sounds?” Kuroo asked with a dumb look on his face. He never could understand exactly how slow Bokuto could be sometimes. 

“Ahh really?” he mumbled back, seeming busy contemplating what was gay with his statement. Then after some very slow seconds, his face brightened up in realization for then to fall into disgusted wrinkles “Eww bro,” 

This ended the peculiar floor companionship in which they had enjoyed. It had helped Kuroo feel a bit better, less anxious. Bokuto could often act as a shield, as if your burden got softened, shared, halved in size when he was there. It made you feel less lonely with your thoughts. Even when nothing was said.

But the moment of ease ended the second Bokuto raised himself off of the floor to migrate to his room to change or something. Kuroo had not asked. The panic had again clutched its dirty hands around his heart and squeezed until he could not breath. Kuroo had never been a person that really worried too much before something had happened. Lived by a ‘take it as it comes’ approach to all aspects of life that was not related to volleyball. And even when it came to volleyball, he was motivated and determined over anxious and nervous.

However, this year everything had changed. Ever since he had met...since February. Now he felt that there were a thousand worries present in his mind at all times, worries that he could and would not pinpoint.  
And today he felt like he had reached a tipping point. Which meant there was only one solution. Alcohol. 

He pushed himself off the floor and found his keys and wallet, slipping them in his old Nekoma joggers he usually wore at home. Went to the front door and slipped on his old red and black Asics volleyball shoes he no longer used for practice due to the worn nature of them and shouted out to Bokuto,

“I’ll be back in a jiffy man,”

The convenience store was only a couple of blocks away. At least the one with some decent alcohol selection, which the convenience store across from their building had not. He strolled in, grabbed a carrier and selected a couple of cheese Doritos on the way to the alcohol refrigerators. He knew he had a full bottle of Absolut under his bed somewhere, but Bokuto was never one for hard liquor. Deciding to grab some 6-7 of beer bottles from the promotional selection.

Can always save them for later in the fridge if we don’t finish, Kuroo thought to himself.

He had plans to get smashing tonight and thus it was better to have too much than too little. Handing his card to the convenience store worker without looking at the price. He didn’t need another reason to feel bad today. He paid for his snacks and alcohol, and strolled back to his and Bokuto’s shared apartment, swinging the black plastic bag back and forth while walking. Feeling already a bit more uplifted from the thought of getting shit faced and forgetting everything. 

He could not even remember last time he really let loose. It was not good for his abs and volleyball performance after all. One of the main features of his popularity. 

However, there was no answer from Bokuto when he shouted for him when he entered the apartment. Wrinkling his nose, he went to the kitchen to store away the beer in the fridge but let the Doritos stay on the kitchen counter. When he also had confirmed that Bokuto was not in his room listening to music on his headphones by carefully opening the door ever so slightly and peeked inside (The roommate agreement stating that this is a violation, and would be punished with having to run through campus in underwear), he texted the cheery guy.

**(22:02):** Yo bro whr ar u?

It took only a short 10 seconds before Bokuto answered, obviously in the middle of doing something else on the phone. 

**Main Bro (22:02):** On ma way to an Izakaya, coach inv me to drink wirh the other middle school coaches. Can’t escape :>( Told ya abt it yesterday. Sry abt the timing

 **(22:03):** No worries, outdrink those geezers

Kuroo sighed, remembering Bokuto’s fleeting comment about having the responsibility to join the drinking party as the youngest member. He looked devastated at the fridge, thinking about the poor beers longing for being drunk. He didn’t want to drink alone nor could he wait for Bokuto to come home already tipsy borderline drunk. But not drinking was not an option either.

It was then a brilliant idea came to his mind. This brilliant idea of his could very well be very stupid and dangerous, be one of the worst decisions of his life. Kuroo was aware of this. But that was for him to worry about later. Now he needed to be so shitfaced he could not remember anything tomorrow. 

This was how he found himself outside number 906 ten minutes later with a bottle of Absolut under his left upper arm and the same black convenience store bag containing the beers and doritos in his hand. Shuffling a bit undecided outside the door, contemplating what he should say. ‘Let’s drink our poor single selves to oblivion’ sounded way too depressing and ‘Let’s celebrate our single lives’ may be a bit insensitive as he had no idea how Tsukishima felt about his breakup. Kuroo felt that it was getting kinda ridiculous how long he was standing there and contemplating, and decided to just knock firmly on the door and say whatever came to mind in the moment.

It was silent for a couple of seconds, maybe as much as a minute, before the door opened slowly and Tsukishima came into view. He looked so effortlessly good where he stood with his front hair clipped up, clad in old joggers and a white t-shirt. The same clothes in which he had worn when he had walked out of the practice hall after showering all those hours ago. Though at this point, it felt like eternities ago. Mirroring the same kind of style that Kuroo was wearing, though he was quite sure that Tsukishima pulled off the look quite differently than himself. 

“Can I help you?” Tsukishima asked in a displeased voice, scrunching up his nose. Flicking his gaze from Kuroo to the vodka bottle under his arm and the bag filled with alcohol and snacks. 

“Ey Tsukki, drink with me,” Kuroo answered casually, smirking in his signature way and shaking the black plastic bag as to put emphasis on what he was saying. 

“No thank you,” Tsukishima answered boredly, closing the door in front of Kuroo in his magnificently rude but humorous way. Kuroo however had excellent reflexes from years of volleyball practice and quickly reacted by sticking his asics clad foot between the door and the corner of the threshold. It was not particularly painful, but not comfortable either. He took hold of the edge of the door and pried it open and out of Tsukishima’s grasp. 

“Come _ooo_ n Tsukki,” Kuroo said cheekily, dragging the o’ syllable. 

“Tsukki, who is at the door?” a familiar voice sounded in the background, and Yamaguchi appeared at the side of Tsukishima. Looking surprised at Kuroo. “Kuroo-san, what are you doing here?” he asked with a confused but sincere smile. 

Kuroo had definitely forgotten that Tsukishima did not live alone. There was a weird part of him that was disappointed but the other part logically concluded ‘the more the merrier’. 

“Wanna drink with me?” Kuroo simply asked nonchalantly, shaking the black bag again. 

Yamaguchi sent a look towards Tsukishima in which Kuroo could not interpret but before Tsukishima could do more than open his mouth to protest, Yamaguchi exclaimed,

“Perfect timing, do come in,” 

Yamaguchi stepped to the side to let Kuroo enter, shoving Tsukishima to the side in the process. He did not look too sorry. 

“Cool,” Kuroo answered.

“Do not mind Tsukki, he doesn't drink that often,” Yamaguchi stated as they walked into the apartment. Pointing at the table in the middle of the living room set up and suggested for Kuroo to put the stuff there while he was getting shot glasses from the kitchen. Tsukishima followed grumpily and silently after, dropping down at the edge of the couch.

“Sweet, you guys have the same bean bags as us. Just a different colour,” Kuroo commented as he sat himself in one of the orange bean bags. “Damn you crows,” he sniggered. 

Yamaguchi came back with the shot glasses and a variety of snacks that he commented were always stored in the cabinets for such occasions. Though such an occasion had yet to happen before today. He plopped himself down in the middle of the couch, crossing his legs in front of him so his knee was touching Tsukishima’s thigh.

That thigh.., Kuroo thought in memory of a certain incident a bit over a week ago. Though he quickly shook his head to get it out of his mind. He had already used so much energy to pretend it never happened. He could not let his efforts be wasted.

It was easier to put his mind off distracting things as they opened their beers and poured the shot glasses full of vodka. The conversation was a bit forced in the start but as the first beer was emptied and a couple of vodka shots were each taken it all flowed easier. Yamaguchi had found a drinking app earlier and they had decided to play a casual, slow round of a random drinking game offered on the app. Though Tsukishima had protested in the start, he also could also not help but relax into the chill atmosphere and alcohol.

“What?” Yamaguchi exclaimed as he was forced to drink a shot by the app as he was the youngest person in their group. “Ayako broke up with you today as well?” Yamaguchi asked in disbelief.

“They planned to do it together,” Kuroo shrugged, not really wanting to enter into that conversation. It had simply been a slip of the tongue, but forgetting was the reason as to why he was drinking in the first place.

“It was only a matter of time in the case of this guy though,” Tsukishima sniggered, sending Kuroo a humoured look. Kuroo then concluded that Tsukishima could not possibly be too upset with his breakup if he could act like this.

“Shut up Stinkyshima,” Kuroo bickered back, but could not stifle a chuckle. 

“I don’t think we are close enough to act like Oikawa- _san_ and Iwaizumi-san,” Tsukishima commented, lifting one amused eyebrow. Kuroo took notice of how the ‘san’ after Oikawa’s name sounded so much more sarcastic in contrast to after Iwaizumi’s name.

He took Yamaguchi’s phone and clicked for his turn. “You drink Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima said as he turned the phone towards Kuroo that displayed the order ‘the person who suggested to drink: take a shot’. 

Kuroo downed the shot and dried his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I don’t think it is anybody’s goal to become as close as them as long as you're not dating,” Kuroo said with a laugh and a shrug. 

“They are dating?” Yamaguchi asked surprised, scrunching his face in an unreadable expression. 

“As good as, but no,” Kuroo pressed out between an abrupt laugh due to the surprised sincerity from the younger boy.

“The same thing can be said about you and Bokuto-san,” Tsukishima slyly commented with a shit eating grin. Yamaguchi excused himself for a moment as his phone rang and went into his room to take it.

“Ey, I had a girlfriend until like 3 hours ago,” Kuroo defended himself, finding it both funny to bicker with the blonde and also uncomfortable. He never liked the ‘gay’ topic. 

“Even the gayest of men can maintain a girlfriend for how much you guys talked,” Tsukishima offered with a raised brow.

“Must be great living with such a shitty mouth,” Kuroo sniggered. He reminded himself several times that it was only a joke. A joke that most guys his age made, it meant nothing. And when he could establish that safety for himself… he could enjoy the humorous bickering between them. 

They continued in the same manner for a couple of minutes until Yamaguchi exited his room, walked past them and to the front door.

“Where are you going?” Tsukki asked confused, wrinkling his forehead. 

“Sorry Tsukki, Yachi watched a horror movie with her friends at the cinema today and now she can’t sleep. I should go over there,” Yamaguchi said with an apologizing smile, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. 

“I apologize for leaving you two alone Kuroo-san,” he added as he opened the door and exited. Though Kuroo could swear he heard him mumbling ‘or i’m not’ as he passed the threshold and closed the door behind him. 

Then there was silence. A long, outdrawn silence that started to be filled with chugging of beer cans to fill the void with some sound, some movement. It seemed that it was impossible for them to keep a momentum between them going, doomed to be interrupted and reminded of their shared weirdness. 

By the time all the alcohol was consumed. They were both way past simply drunk.

Unable to move straight, think straight. It was getting very late, but Kuroo’s vision was steadily becoming way too blurry to check the time.

His head was pounding, hurting. It was usually filled with these confusing thoughts that restrained him, caged him in. Like a captured bird, but the door was opened. It had always been open but the outside world was too scary to take the leap, take flight. However, the booze was clouding his mind, clouding the path. He felt he could take the flight because he could not see the outside world, see where the path led. The flight would give him no answer to what lay outside the cage but made him able to enter in there. Into the hidden. Explore blindly. It felt so freeing in many ways despite the pain. Allowing him to move, to explore his desire to sit himself next to Tsukishima.

He raised himself from the bean bag, looking blurred over to where Tsukishima was sitting. He was still positioned at the end of the couch, leaning his upper body towards the couch arm and his legs were tucked under him. He was resting his chin on his open palm, stabilized by the couch. Kuroo could not make out his expression through the fog. 

He took a moment to stabilize himself on his drunken legs, using his arms to gain stable ground before he stumbled over to the couch. He flung himself next to Tsukishima, occupying the space in which Yamaguchi had been sitting earlier. As he made himself comfortable in his seat, he clumsily kicked his leg out and tipped one of the shot glasses off the table. It met the floor with a shattering sound, spreading out small, sharp pieces of shattered glass. 

The sound of shattered glass seemed to shatter the fog in front of his eyes. He could see more clearly than he could ever remember to have seen. He could see Tsukishima clearly. See all the small details of his elegant figure. 

He could see that the shatter had woken up the blonde boy as well. He was looking back at Kuroo, the wandering gaze now looking hazedly back at him. Intense behind the haze. It was like an electric charge was dancing right before his eyes. And Tsukishima was so beautiful. He could really see that now, admit that now. Because even though the fog that blurred his eyes were shattered, the fog that clouded his mind, really blinding him was now thicker than ever. Thickening as he dived into an ocean of liquid honey.

“You don’t seem sad that Yui broke up with you,” Kuroo commented slurredly, it was not a question how he phrased it. But it had been a question that had burned painfully in his chest since earlier, but had found no justification for asking. Now however, what were really filters? He leant his head on his palm, his elbow stabilized on top of the back of the couch and studied the reaction of Tsukishima. 

“I’m not,” Tsukishima answered simply. There was no guard, no shield around him, they had all disappeared. Kuroo only had to watch his facial expressions for a few moments to realize this. 

“Why?” Kuroo asked questiongly, tilting his head at the side with a glassy look in his eyes. Something about that question made butterflies and static energy mix strongly together inside him. He wanted to know the answer, wanted to know what went on inside his head.

“I didn’t really lose anything,” Tsukishima answered with a small smile, his words slurring at the back of his throat. He flicked his gaze down at the empty beer can in his hands. His smile made the butterflies buzz frantically in Kuroo’s stomach.

“What do you mean?”

“I do not think I ever saw her as much more than a best friend. And I didn’t lose her friendship,” Tsukishima answered earnestly, the alcohol still thick on his tongue. The atmosphere was so peculiar, so not them. But the alcohol lulled them into a sense of an alternative state. A state in which the normal rules of their interactions, of themselves, did not apply. 

“I see,” Kuroo mumbled back, never taking his eyes off the person in front of him. The answer surprised him, was not what he expected. But something inside of him was definitely happy about it. 

“What about you?” Tsukishima asked, bringing the topic back to where he earlier dreaded the conversation to go. Though right now, he could not find it in himself to mind, to evade. Especially because, despite the alcohol penetrating all of his logical senses, he was a bit taken aback that Tsukishima asked him an earnest question. 

“I’m terrified, terrified of what she would say about me to other people. That she would ruin me in her anger. But not sad,” Kuroo answered truthfully, his mind too far gone to lie at this moment. Too lost in Tsukishima’s eyes to care about what his words said about him. Admitting fear was never his strong suit, but it has never been this easy.

In response to this honest answer, Tsukishima cocked his head gently and looked back at him with the most beautiful questioning smile. Like he was questioning what could possibly ruin him, thought maybe Kuroo was a bit unrealistic in thinking that. It was such a bright smile, so new. He felt that his heart could leap out of his chest and bring all his logic with him. 

He now took notice of how Tsukishima’s hair had gotten quite a lot longer these past months, now his pretty curls framed his face in such an attractive manner. And the hairpin that clipped the front section away had to be the most adorable thing he had ever seen. The alcohol had given him the cutest pink tint which complimented the gentle smile in the most perfect way. Like a picture taken right out of a romantic movie, that perfect moment when the main character realizes the beauty of the other. But it was those deep eyes that always did him in, liquid honey that mesmerized him, made him crazy. It was then that all his restraints snapped. When he officially lost his mind. When the fragile glass that kept his desires locked away shattered. 

He pushed himself up from his leaning position, swaying slightly before he moved himself on his knees to where Tsukishima was sitting. Tsukishima was watching him move with questions in his eyes, but he did not move nor say anything. Their eyes locked in a heated moment. Kuroo shifted closer and led Tsukishima down towards the couch arm by the shoulder. He moved so slowly despite the loss of his restraints, giving Tsukishima all the time in the world to protest. But he did not. 

He sneaked a knee between Tsukishima’s legs to space himself as close to the younger as possible. Continuing to.stare intensely down at those vulnerable eyes that looked surprised up at him, his smile faltering and replaced with something unreadable.

Those fuckings eyes. They made him hot and warm all over, desperate to close all the space between them. They bewitched him, drew him in. 

Kuroo slowly moved his hand from Tsukishima’s shoulder, grazing his fingers gently over his exposed collarbones. Earning him an intoxicating shudder, a surprised quiet inbreath. 

He is sensitive, noted Kuroo in the back of his mind.

That idea burned hot in the pit of his stomach. He continued the path of his hand, teasing them at the base of his neck, his index finger painting small circles over Tsukishima’s pulse. Feeling how static energy seemed to follow his every touch, jolting through his entire body. 

The silence between them was filled with a need neither of them really understood yet. Kuroo was following instincts he didn’t even know he had. 

The fast beating of their hearts was loud, exciting. He then slowly leant his face closer to Tsukishima’s, his hand carefully cupping the younger’s face and grazed his thumb experimentally over his lower lip. He wanted to- what? Take hold of Tsukishima’s face and shove his tongue down his throat? Taste everything the younger had to offer? He didn't really know, all he knew was that he needed to close as much distance between them as possible.

At first, Tsukishima looked like a deer caught in headlights, bewildered how to respond. The moment his thumb brushed his lip however, honey turned to dark amber. Darkening dangerously for Kuroo’s sanity. The younger flickered his gaze towards Kuroo’s own lips, then captured his eyes again. Sending signals that told Kuroo that maybe they wanted the exact same thing.

The silent tension shattered, shattered like broken glass as that look gave Kuroo everything he needed to capture those beautiful lips with his own. Captured them with such intensity that Tsukishima gasped in response, gasped with the magical electricity that danced between the non-existent space of their lips. Mimicking the sparks between his finger’s and Tsukishima’s skin, only a thousand times more intense. 

Drunk on alcohol and the moment, Kuroo had no reservations about taking advantage of Tsukishima’s open mouth, slipping his tongue in the dark, wet heaven that was Tsukishima. His mouth was so wet, so warm. He caught his tongue with his own, drawing sensual patterns over it and trapped it in a battle for dominance. Grazing it over his teeth before delving completely in the taste of the other’s mouth. The strings of spit linking their tongues made the sensation all the more lewd, exciting, and it sent chills down his entire body.

Tsukishima in an intoxicated condition seemed however to revel in the dominance so easily taken by Kuroo at that moment, letting himself be directed, moaning silent pleads into his mouth. Asking for more without knowing what that more was.

Kuroo released the younger’s tongue, opting to brush it over his lower lip, catching it between his teeth. Sucking and pulling. Playing with the soft skin, dragging out delicious sounds that the blonde would probably rather burn himself alive than make in a sober condition. Kuroo’s right hand was gently caressing the soft skin of Tsukishima’s cheek and nape, the left hand slipped downwards, exploring the details of Tsukishima’s chest. Feeling how the gentle muscles under his fingers felt so damn nice. So different, but so right.

The hand explored lower, creating borderline desperate patterns on Tsukishima’s stomach and sides while his mouth continued to ravish the other. He felt the need to grip the waist hard between his hands, bruise the pale skin, mark him. The need to press him closer towards him, have easier access, acted like an unbearable pull in his chest. 

He pecked Tsukishima’s lips gently and pulled slightly away, looking how those dark amber eyes opened up in confusion. His lips trying to conceal a protest from the lack of closeness.

But Kuroo spent no extra time apart, far beyond reason to do so. He took a stronger hold on Tsukishima’s waist, his instinct to mark the younger still screaming in the back of his mind, acting on its own. The touch bruising the delicious skin red. 

He rearranged them on the couch so Tsukishima was straddling his lap, his legs placed on each side of Kuroo. He wasted no time moving his lips downwards, licking and sucking at his jawline. Teasing the skin beneath his ear with his nose, blowing tickling, yet maddening air over the sensitive shell of his ear. Earning Kuroo a haltering breath, a whimper like a beautiful orchestra in his ears. He thread his finger’s through those soft blonde curls, his fingers halting as he was stopped by the hairpin.

“You look so cute like this Tsukki,” Kuroo whispered slowly into Tsukishima’s ear, a sensual breath tickling the sensitive spots. “Though you look so sexy it should be against the law without it,” he added with a smirk, looking hazedly at Tsukishima as he removed the hairpin. Throwing it haphazardly away, threading his fingers in those blonde curls. Earning him a deep sound of desperation from Tsukishima which halted with the return of Kuroo's lips back on his heated skin.

He finally moved his kisses down his neck. First small, careful pecks. Then slowly, he let his tongue roam freely down that beautiful flushed skin. Tasting the addictive natural taste that was Tsukishima, sucking, biting. Feeling how heat was boiling in his stomach, he removed his grip on those curls and grabbed the blonde even tighter around the torso, pushing him flat against him as he was sucking small, dark purple marks on Tsukishima’s neck. Eating the sounds the blonde was making off his neck. 

It was then Kuroo noticed it. 

Tsukishima was hard. 

His mind had not thought that far, thought about what all this meant. Where it led. But the sensation sent shivers through his whole body, the feeling of Tsukishima’s hard member against his groin felt intoxicating. Sending excitement straight down to his own groin. 

He was hard….wait, he was hard?. 

He suddenly pushed Tsukishima away from his upper body, looking bewildered at the beautiful, flushed boy in front of him with messy hair, swollen, dark red, bitten lips and small dark purple marks peppered down his neck. The sight was so erotic, he felt that he could probably come just by the look of his messy state. But that was exactly why he was confused. Not negatively confused one might add, he was ecstatic, relieved and turned on.

“What kind of magic are you Tsukki?” Kuroo asked in a disbelieved breath as he was staring at the sight in front of him, brushing gentle circles with his thumbs over Tsukishima’s sides. Grinning like he has never before. 

“Wha-what are you talking about?” Tsukishima almost whimpered weakly, as if his brain could not process the situation. Kuroo could see how turned on the younger boy was, feel how turned on he was. How hard it was for him to speak, to make sense of anything. How hard himself was against their connected pelvises. 

Kuroo brought his upper body back towards himself as the instant shock of his own hard on had passed. Capturing those abused lips with his own, kissing him as he never had kissed anybody. Slow passionate kisses turning to aggressive, desperate clashes of need. He pulled away ever so slightly to capture air, continuing to admire the amazing view in front of him. A view that has made him probably the hardest he has ever been in his life and they were only kissing.

“I can’t get hard when I’m with somebody. Only alone. Haven’t been able to for over 2 years now,” Kuroo mumbled with a voice full of lust, his breath ghosting over Tsukishima’s lips.

”Until now, god you are so sexy Tsukki,” Kuroo growled hungrily, his voice sounding thick on his drunken tongue, taking a better grip of those godforsaken sexy hips and pushed their heat together. Pushing the tight, warm, desperate part of himself into Tsukishima’s own, feeling how amazing the pressure felt. How stimulating it felt to feel another’s arousal on your own. Knowing you are the cause. It was such a mindblowing feeling, so much better than anything he could remember.

It had been such a long time, but he could swear to everything that was unholy that this felt different. This feeling of a muscular, large body pinning his own, moaning into his ear as the younger clutched Kuroo tighter towards him in reaction to the pleasure. The pleasure of their erections moving together in a steady, slow rhythm. Dragging out new, unexplored sounds from the both of them as the speed became more hurried, ragged. The rhythm left behind for desperate, raw dry humping. 

Somewhere deep inside him that was clear enough to think, noted that this was probably not how he would have reacted to getting his first hard on in the presence of another for 2 years if he was sober. A guy let alone. But now he was acting through an alcoholic mind. Thinking, acting with his dick. 

The fabric between their heated bodies displayed wet patches from precome and sweat. The tightness was becoming too much, too suffocating. Kuroo needed release now. Needed the blonde before him to touch him, to make those delicate fingers imprint on his skin. 

The situation, the sounds, the heat and the beating hearts gave him a confidence he did not know he owned with the blonde boy. He released the hips of Tsukishima, earning him a protesting sound. 

Oh gad if sober Tsukishima could hear himself now, Kuroo thought. 

He used his now free hands to take Tsukishima’s hand into his own and led it towards his own bulge, pressing his palm towards the desperate clad member. Moving it in torturing slow, deep motions. He could sense panic mix with dark amber and liquid honey, an uncertainty visible in Tsukishima’s motions. 

“Please touch me Tsukki,” Kuroo breathed out raspely, tickling his nose carefully at the side of Tsukishima’s face. Leaving small kisses as he moved.

“I-I don't know,” Tsukishima answered almost shyly, tightening his hold around Kuroo’s shoulders and looked away with a burning face. Eyes still aflame with lust behind the insecurities. 

“I want those pretty hands around me, can’t you do that for me?” Kuroo whispered teasingly, his gaze confident and dark. His lips forming that mischievous yet attractive grin. 

He brushed away those blonde curls to look properly at him , his right hand still keeping a firm hold on the younger’s hand, motioning it roughly, heavily over the desperate member. Slowly moving the touch upwards, feeling those delicate fingers through the fabric, up the length of his member and to the hem of his joggers and underwear. 

“Look at me,” Kuroo ordered under his breath, tilting Tsukishima’s turned head towards him, pinning the pair of heated eyes on him. Causing Tsukishima to take a sharp breath in, insecurities battling with lust. The air was thick with the desperation between them. 

Then Tsukishima was looking back at Kuroo with a suddenly determined look, making him lose his mind for the nth time. He hurriedly leant forward to take possession of those irresistible lips again, capture his mouth with his own. Tasting the sweetness of the blonde, tasting the sounds which escaped him. Tasting, looking, feeling. Closing his eyes shut as he let his body follow urges that had been hidden inside him, locked away in denial. 

He felt Tsukishima shift under him and then Kuroo let out a gasp in a mix of surprise and pleasure as long, pale fingers snaked itself under the double fabric. Dancing, teasing over the sensitive area above his cock, drawing torturing patterns. Kuroo opened his eyes rapidly, looking surprised at the younger boy. He should not have been so surprised, but the confident, sexy expression painting Tsukishima's face was far beyond anything he could have imagined, sent signals directly down to his dick. Making it twitch in anticipation. 

Time had seemed to stop, the slow pace in which Tsukishima was moving his hand was maddening yet so wonderfully sensual. His fingers woved into his pubic hair area, playing with the hairs every so slightly. Making sure to show Kuroo that Tsukishima was not a pushover. That two could play this game now that his confidence had gone up. 

It seemed like forever that those teasing motions were torturing his sensitive areas, neglecting his leaking cock. Making a promise of something more, but never promising when.

At the moment Kuroo was ready to beg for release, thin fingers wrapped itself around the base of Kuroo’s dick. Gripping tightly, pumping experimentally as Tsukishima’s intense eyes were watching for a reaction. Kuroo gasped loudly in surprise, in heightened pleasure. And as the grip got more steady, the movements transforming from experimental to confident up and down his thick cock in steady motions, the gasps transformed into poorly hidden moans.

Kuroo closed his eyes again and flung his head back towards the backrest of the couch. Shielding his eyes with his forearm and biting down hard at his lips to unsuccessfully block the sounds that were forcing themselves out. 

“Gad Tsukki, yes,” Kuroo moaned, his chest heaving heavily as the experimental confident strokes became more exploring. The motions had changed into a new steady rhythm, pulling in vexing, delicious movements. Rubbing his thumb over the glizening head, wet with needy pre-cum. Begging for release. His fingers danced further down, taking his balls into those delicate hands and massaged them sensually. Playing with the unexplored territory, sending more blood straight to his cock. All the while the back of his hand continued to add movements and pressure to his painfully hard dick.

Tsukishima was the one to lean in this time, ghosting his lips over Kuroo’s desperate, moaning ones. Smirking slightly as he licked a wet trail over his lower lip.

“Soo…” Tsukishima purred against Kuroo’s mouth, smirking dangerously as he dragged out the o’ syllable. “I’m the first person to make you feel like this in 2 years?” the sound coming out from Tsukishima’s mouth was so satisfied, so triumphant, so sexy. It didn't matter that the tone was slurring from alcohol, far too gone himself to notice

If Tsukishima’s hand were not currently stroking his dick in such a mind blowing manner, rendering him unable to think any coherent thoughts, he would probably have blushed. But the only two things he could think of at the moment was the pleasure, the overwhelming feeling of getting closer and closer to his release, and a determination to make Tsukishima feel the same. 

Without warning, Kuroo removed his arm from his face and took hold of the younger’s hip, steadied him as he delved his hand down. Down beneath the underwear, straight down and around an equally hard and slick cock as his own. Feeling how the warm flesh filled him with excitement, how arousing it was to hold around another man’s dick. Around Tsukishima’s dick. Realizing just how much he could affect the younger and loving the thought of it.

Tsukishima moaned out incoherent words in reaction to the touch, moaning Kuroo’s name, bucking his hips hard into his hand. Needing more pressure, more stimulation, more pleasure. Mimicking the maddening touches of Tsukishima, they fell into an unsteady rhythm of slow and fast paced strokes, tight embraces and ragged breaths. Too stimulated to make any sense of the sounds, the words coming out of each other’s mouths. Breaths hitches, mouths meeting again as tongues and teeth clashed in dire need of being closer. Too occupied with the pleasure they received to dominate the scene, the other.

Keeping a steady and coherent pace already gone with the wind as they were both nearing their climax. Movements became more and more ragged as they were both only moments away from coming. Orgasms building quickly at the pit of their stomachs. 

Kuroo felt his mind going blank, a white blur of nothing except ecstasy and pleasure filled him as he orgasmed, releasing his cum all over his black t-shirt. His hand mindlessly kept up the ragged strokes of Tsukishima’s dick, pushing the other closer to release as he was riding out his orgasm. 

The rough spasm of his hips added extra stimulation, pressure to Tsukishima’s own crotch, sending the blonde over the edge with a loud gasp. He closed his eyes as he released his load all over Kuroo’s hand, dripping over the exposed parts of his stomach and crotch.

And as Kuroo’s vision returned to him, he watched in awe as the look of pure bliss, of orgasm painted the most beautiful picture on Tsukishima’s face. Kuroo could swear that if he were not drunk, his senses not dulled, his dick would have instantly gotten hard from the sight alone.

After what felt like an eternity of panting heavily, sharing breaths from the proximity, ghosting over each other's close lips, Tsukishima slowly opened his eyes. Their eyes locked in dark, electric intensity. 

“Wow,” Kuroo breathed out.

“Yeah wow,” Tsukishima agreed in a similarly out of breath voice. 

It was not awkward. The passion between them, the heated gazes and the alcohol painted the post-orgasm scene in rose colours. Leaving the awkwardness, the confusion, for another time. 

They did not really talk about it, there was no question nor a conversation. It just felt like the most natural thing in the world for them to stumble on unstable, tired legs towards Tsukishima’s room. Laughing at how drunk they were, how silly it all was. 

They stepped out of their joggers and stained underwear while still laughing, gripping at each other as their balance failed. Slipping under the covers together and closing their eyes. Sleep found them fast as the laughter died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...I'm slightly embarrassed by this but ...yeah.
> 
> I hope nobody that is already reading the fic saw my change in tags, cuz that would be kinda a spoiler rip


	8. What's Forgotten is Never Really Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Probably the most angsty chapter you will get from me.
> 
> My friend summarized this chapter in this way - DENIAL. OMFG THE DENIAL, GRRRRRR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so first of all, I'm sorry for the long-ass break. I have been busy with my midterm exams (god somebody kill me Maritime Law is boring :( ), which kinda had to be my priority.  
> I have worked hard the past two weeks to get a chapter up for you guys as quickly as possible though! Maybe I made up a little bit for it by writing this 16.000 words monster?
> 
> TBH, I totally forgot that they were practising for a tournament. Like, I knew it was coming up, but forgot that the spring tournament time period was actually over already 2 chapters or so ago. So yeah, that part will probably be a bit awkward...sorry? 
> 
> And yeah, I read a couple of fanfic that was so good to give me the inspiration to start writing again after being dead after the exams. However... it made me just question everything I wrote and suddenly I felt like the worst writer ever. So I kinda feel like this is the worst thing iv'e ever written... hopefully that is just my insecurities from being a newbie writer and it's at least....an ok chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy?

**What's Forgotten is Never Really Lost.**

**Tsukishima.**

The afternoon sun felt hot against Tsukishima’s neck as it filtered through the flimsy material of the bedroom curtains, breaking through the barrier with the sheer force of a Japanese late spring. Bathing the scenery of the quiet bedroom in the light of a new day, bringing the consequences of late-night mistakes at the forefront of existence. As if the beams themselves tip-toed softly around the sleeping figures on the bed, waiting in anticipation for the moment where everything was to fall apart, crumble upon itself. 

Tsukishima stirred, curling upon himself to shield from the burning heat on his neck and replace it with the comfortable warmth surrounding him. Grasping for the soft skin encasing him, burying his face in the firm chest in his state of half-asleep. Taking in the not so pleasant scent of dried alcohol and something in which reminded the blonde of overly masculine shower gel. However, the smell seemed like a worthy sacrifice to secure a snug escape from the burning sun and the intense pounding of his head. An intense headache which screamed of regret and bad choices, compelling Tsukishima to cling onto unconsciousness just a little bit longer. Avoid the unavoidable just a little bit longer. 

His brain did not conjure any images that provided an explanation for this particular predicament. The pain dulling any logical thoughts that would put a big question mark on the situation he found himself in. Allowing Tsukishima to let reality snooze for just a little longer. Allowing him to press himself closer, to run his hand slowly up tanned, toned arms. Feeling an unfamiliar calming peace simmer deep down in his chest. 

Time, place, dream or reality did not matter at that moment. Only the escape of the embrace he would never normally let himself fall into, accept. The slow, steady rising motion of the unfamiliar chest for every breath and the quiet sound of a heart beating in sync with the pounding of his head. All so very surrealistic. 

It transported him to a familiar time where walls were only solid, materialistic structures. Before the term had started to liquify, seeping into every bone in his body and resurrected again as a metaphorical term of his inner life. His protection. A time where pride built you up, instead of tearing you down. 

At the same time, it was completely different. Because this embrace was not like the ones of his mother or brother’s arms. The security he allowed himself to feel in those arms were a childish security, a neverending promise. This was different- Tsukishima could just not put a name on it yet. Had no energy to even try to. 

You can, however, never escape from reality for too prolonged periods of time. It always catches up with you. And it was slowly creeping to the front of Tsukishima’s mind as the figure next to him started to react to his movements, stirring tiredly to regretfully meet the dawning of a new day.  
The motions made suddenly everything very real, impossible to further ignore - and a lightbulb switched on in Tsukishima’s mind with a terrifying speed. Not a lightbulb that gave any clarity to the situation, however, just clarity to how wrong the current situation was and that he had no idea what was going on.

He wrenched himself out of the warm embrace and pushed the body away from himself as he stared in disbelief at the blurry figure that slowly materialized in front of his sleepy eyes. The slowly materializing figure of Kuroo. If the huge eyes that mirrored Tsukishima’s own deer caught in headlight look were to tell him anything, Kuroo had also just come to the same realization as Tsuikishima. They were sharing a bed, Tsukishima’s bed, and they had just been...cuddling. 

“Wha-What are you doing here?” Tsukishima croaked out in a mixed voice of bewilderment and anger. He hurriedly shuffled himself further away, further away from that confusing body. Panic was bursting in his chest, and his limbs painfully met the carpeted floor as he pushed himself off the bed in his attempt to get away. To increase the distance between them as much as possible. 

“Huh?” Kuroo answered hoarsely, looking around the room with a distressed look on his face. There were a million questions that flickered visibly in front of the older’s face, his breath hitching in his throat. 

“What the fuck am I doing here?” Kuroo asked, but whether to himself or to Tsukishima, the younger did not know. Too panicked to care. 

Kuroo’s equally panicked, flickering gaze stopped however immediately as he took in the sight of Tsukishima on the floor, lingering awkwardly at the blond’s crotch area. His mouth falling comically open. “Why are you naked?” 

These words made Tsukishima look quickly down in horror, terrified of finding a confirmation to Kuroo’s words. However, the proof of Kuroo’s words was impossible to ignore. He was indeed naked. Naked from the waist down, displaying all his most intimate parts in his awkward, wide-legged position on the floor. 

He hurriedly grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and dragged it down to hide the soft flesh between his legs, blushing terribly in the process. 

“S-Shut up. What is happening? What happened yesterday?” Tsukishima pressed out through his embarrassment, his confusion winning over his instincts to run away. In addition, this was his bedroom, after all, so he had nowhere to actually escape to.

His mind was blank, a white sheet of unused paper. He had no recollection whatsoever of anything that would have led Kuroo to sleep in his bed. For him to be half-naked. There was a big gaping nothingness after the awkward tension stretching between them as Yamaguchi had left them alone. How much had he been drinking? What had happened? Nothing made sense, and he felt more vulnerable than he could ever remember to have felt before there he sat half-naked on the floor. With zero recollection as to why.

“I’m-” Kuroo started, tearing his gaze away from the younger’s crotch with flaming dark red cheeks. He seemed to be searching for words, for memories, for things to make sense but seemed to come up equally empty as Tsukishima himself. “I’m sure there is a perfectly logical explanation to this,” he gulped out. 

“Yaha?” Tsukishima sneered, caught in between the urge to yell at Kuroo and yell at himself for putting himself in such a fucked up situation. One thing was for certain, however, he could not continue to sit there naked in front of the older. 

He hurried himself up to a standing position, making sure to keep stretching the white material down to hide his dick from view. In those few milliseconds of standstill, he could swear he saw Kuroo’s gaze flicker down his bare legs but refrained from commenting. Not feeling the need to make the situation even more awkward nor adding more questions to the millions of others competing for an answer. 

He thus turned quickly around, made his way to the dresser and hopped into a new pair of joggers. As he took in his tired appearance in the attached mirror, he noticed small purple marks trailing down his neck that definitely had not been there the day before. He lifted one hand towards his neck and followed the dark path carefully with his finger in confusion. What was that? The skin felt no different to the touch, but the skin itself felt tender as he brushed over it. Like a bruise. Had he somehow fallen on his neck yesterday? Was that even possible?

“What is this?” mumbled Tsukishima for himself as he continued to study the marks in the mirror, tugging at the collar of his t-shirt to get a better look. Noticing how the pattern followed down to his collarbone. 

“Uhm..well, it's probably...” Kuroo started as his gaze flickered up from Tsukishima’s neck to his face, clearly having noticed the marks as well, as the younger turned around to continue to demand answers. The question was, however, whether Kuroo had them or not. He had seemed equally surprised by their compromising morning cuddle, where he was. Could Kuroo really not remember what had happened last night? Could it all have been an act?

“Cut the bullshit and tell me what happened,” Tsukishima sneered, refusing to believe that both of them had blacked out. That nobody of them could clear up and give a good explanation to this situation which screamed to be misunderstood. Tsukishima was not stupid after all, he knew what this looked like. But he refused to believe, accept, acknowledge that something like that would happen, would ever happen. Kuroo had to know, had to be acting like a bitch to mess with him. This was Kuroo after all. 

“Don’t tell me that the big, popular volleyball jock can't handle his alcohol and has blacked out? Lame,” Tsukishma continued, his walls thick and heavy as lead over his feelings. Urging him, forcing him to be rude. Telling him that being rude was the only way to escape with his pride more or less intact. 

“Don’t you fuckings dare to start with that attitude with me right now,” Kuroo growled back, anger mirroring in his dark eyes. He tore the beddings of himself, scrambled up on his feet to march forward towards Tsukishima with danger in his eyes.

It was then Tsukishima noticed that Kuroo was naked too. His gaze halting stupidly at Kuroo’s exposed dick. Looking at how it was hanging out in the same casual way his own had done. The sight of it stirred something in the back of his mind, took his attention away from the screaming walls inside him. However, as fast as the memory stirred, it evaporated, fled, and painted the inside of his mind white as paper again.

“You are also naked,” Tsukishima said dumbly, barely managing to tear his gaze away from the distracting view of a dick right in front of him. This information seemed to inflate the balloon of anger that had occupied Kuroo for a hot second. 

He reacted in the same dumbfounded way as Tsukishima had done. He looked down quickly, his dark cheeks turning even darker and he tugged at his own black t-shirt to hide away his exposed member. 

“Well, uhm, as I said, I’m sure there is a very logical explanation for this,” Kuroo stated in a borderline nervous voice. His gaze flickered throughout the room, undoubtedly looking for where he had discarded his pants the previous night. 

“Enlighten me,” Tsukishima muttered, not managing to sound even half as rude as he wanted to. He wanted so much for everything to make sense, an explanation. For Kuroo to tell him an insanely stupid reason that somehow could make sense for a drunken mind to rationalize that they should sleep in the same bed. Naked. But no matter how much he wanted to believe that Kuroo could remember, that this was all an act, his facial expression showed no lies. The shock and bewilderment were too apparent, too good to be fake.

“Finally,” Kuroo mumbled as he spotted his red Nekoma joggers thrown off behind the clothing rack and swiftly slipped into them. Easing at least some of the weirdness in the room. 

“Well, you know-” he started, plucking at the pocket of his joggers while his gaze was again looking for an answer, an explanation as he turned around to face Tsukishima again.

Then without warning, his facial expression changed abruptly. A large casual grin painted his facial features and the tense, embarrassed demeanour relaxed back to casual. Something about it felt forced to Tsukishima.

“It’s not like anything weird happened just because we can’t remember. We got shitfaced to the point of not remembering, which was my goal in the first place. Then we went to bed because we were shitfaced, undressed because we were shitfaced and hot. And...your marks, it's obviously bug bites. You should probably wash your bedsheets,” Kuroo explained as if that were the most natural turn of events, clinging on to his air of nonchalance. 

“Wash my bedsheets? Clearly, they need to be burned. Something much worse than bugs just slept there,” Tsukishima commented dryly. Despite the snarky front, Tsukishima took a moment to consider Kuroo’s explanation. It made sense. At least much more than what it looked like. Because…...just no. Tsukishima could admit that he did not hate the guy anymore,...but just no. 

“I’ll have you know that there are many girls who would have wished to be in your position,” Kuroo sniggered back, wafting Tsukishima off with his left hand. It was so clearly an attempt from both sides to stop looking more into reasons, to accept the stretch of the explanation given by Kuroo as facts. To continue to bicker in the same manner as they were used to, push away the awkwardness and the uncertainties. “I’m sure the same thing can not be said of you,”

“Are you complaining about the fact that a guy did not particularly enjoy having you in their bed?” Tsuikishima asked mockingly, heaving an eyebrow towards Kuroo with a small smile painted on his lips. It felt so natural to fall back into familiar patterns of mindless bickering, the kind that lacked any real menace behind it. 

“Way to turn the focus away from yourself,” Kuroo winked.

“Same can be said about you,”

“You don’t ever give up, do you?”

“Where is the fun in that?,” snickered Tsukishima back. The panic from earlier had settled. There was no need to overanalyze and stress over what had happened. Finding questions for stuff that didn’t need to be answered. Clearly, nothing had happened, they could agree on that and let it slide. Adding more confusing and awkward things into their already so easily shaken relationship was doing them nothing good. 

“Just … let’s not mention this to anybody ok? I have a feeling some people would love to blow it out of proportion,” Kuroo added as an afterthought, abandoning the bickering for a moment of unusual seriousness. 

“You are worried about me _talking_ to people?” Tsukishima asked with a light scoff, finding the notion that Kuroo was worried about _him_ running his mouth to other people amusing. Nor could he really imagine who had enough interest in his personal life to blow a drunken sleepover out of proportion. There was however something stuck in the back of his mind that told him that Kuroo was quite worried about that. Like Kuroo had once told him something that had been lost with time, stored away in the darkest corner of his mind.

But that made no sense either because they had never shared anything remotely personal. They never had entered into a conversation where Kuroo had revealed his weaknesses and fears. That would certainly be something he would remember. He would remember because the presence as a scar in his pride in which Kuroo had constituted for such a long time would make his inner walls claw onto any information in which he could use to his advantage. 

Maybe this headache was more severe than it initially felt like. After all, everything that happened from the moment he woke up had been a pretty effective distraction from his hangover.

“Forgot who I was talking to for a moment,” Kuroo offered as a response, laughing a bit. Maybe at his own stupidity. Or just the ridiculousness of the whole situation. 

Tsukishima got a glimpse of himself in the mirror again, of the dark purple marks painting a stark contrast to his pale skin. And suddenly he maybe understood a bit about Kuroo’s worries. Those marks could so easily be interpreted as something else. Something else he refused to think too hard about. He did not particularly care about what his teammates thought of him - but this? This was another matter completely. 

“Tch. This is going to be a bitch to explain though,” Tsukishima mumbled. He was not entirely sure if he was talking to Kuroo or not.

“Just don’t explain,” Kuroo shrugged and started to pat his pockets and look around the room for what Tsukishima could only guess was his phone.

“Easy for you to say,” Tsukishima said with a roll of his eyes. It was not like Kuroo would be the one to suffer when it was him that carried the marks. “Anyways, our phones are probably in the living room. Pick it up and get out so I can suffer from my hangover alone,” Tsukishima added as he was already half-way towards the door. He opened it as he approached it, and made a mock gesture for Kuroo to leave already.

What he did not expect, however, was to be met with the sight of Yamaguchi cleaning the living room from the mess in which they had left yesterday. 

“Look who finally decided to wake up,” said Yamaguchi without looking up as he was sweeping up the shattered glass from the floor. “Would it have killed y-” Yamaguchi stopped mid-sentence as he looked up to probably look accusingly at Tsukishima, but stopped at the sight of an unexpected raven. “Kuroo-san?” he asked confusedly, looking back and forth between the two newcomers. “Did you sleep here?”

Tsukishima instinctively reacted by slapping a hand over his neck, blocking the dark marks from his friend’s view. To mask the abrupt action, he proceeded to rub the spot sheepishly, as if he was feeling guilty for leaving the mess.

“Ahh yes we got ...quite drunk yesterday and I didn’t make it home,” Kuroo answered casually with the acting skills of a professional. Though for all Tsukishima knew, he was not acting. It was the truth after all. They were only awkward because they could not remember and the morning cuddles, but that could be safely justified by the fact that both of them had no idea who was actually next to them. 

“I see,” chuckled Yamaguchi as he emptied the shattered glass on the dusting board into an empty trash bag next to him and started to gather the scattered beer cans. “Care to help Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked as the two others kept standing awkwardly by the exit of Tsukishma’s room. “Oh, and I put your phone over there Kuroo. I thought you just had forgotten it,” he continued and gestured towards the small bench by the front door.

Kuroo mumbled a short thanks, picked up his phone and left the apartment without looking back. 

Tsukishima continued to stand straight up and down at the same spot, uncertain as to what he should say or do. He was not entirely sure why he felt so awkward about the whole thing.... nothing had happened after all. But that did not mean that other people could not misunderstand. 

“You gonna stand there all day?” Yamaguchi asked with a raised brow, gesturing with his head towards all the mess spread around. 

“One sec,” Tsukishima mumbled as he retreated back into his room and changed into a high neck sweater that hid the marks on his neck. 

He stood quietly in front of the mirror for a couple of seconds, staring blankly at his clothed neck and traced a finger lightly over it in the same way he had done to the bare skin earlier. There was something nagging at the back of his mind, something that would simply not let the matter of yesterday rest. Something that was not content with the explanation. 

But his mind was completely blank, there was nothing there to contradict the explanation. Nothing except an annoying gut feeling. And this annoying gut feeling was making him conscious about absolutely everything. Then there was that image of Kuroo naked in front of him, naked with that anger in his eyes that quickly had deflated. Quickly changed with the overall weird mood that fluctuated between emotions quicker than they really could comprehend them. 

“Bit warm for sweaters isn’t it?” Yamaguchi asked as Tsuikishima came back out from the bedroom again with an incomprehensible look on his face, a look Tsukishima did not even know the cause of. A look that mirrored the mess inside. 

“Mind your own business,” Tsukishima grumbled as he started to pick up the scrambled chips bags and the overall crumble trails on the wooden floor. Preferring to clean in silence and forget about the event altogether.

“So how was sharing a bed with Kuroo?” sniggered Yamaguchi in a voice that told Tsukishima that he had been holding in that question from the moment they had first entered the living room. 

“You really think I would let that guy in my bed?” Tsukishima asked with a bored voice accompanied by a deadpanned look in Yamaguchi’s direction. He was maybe being a liar, but he was far from ready to share anything of what happened this morning with Yamaguchi. He did not want to see the look in Yamaguchi’s eyes when he would come up with his own conclusions about what had happened. The way Yamaguchi might see him as a different person. “He slept on the floor,” 

“I’m sure it would not kill to lower your guard a bit,” Yamaguchi commented with a roll of his eyes. 

Was he talking about lowering his guard in front of Yamaguchi, letting him know about what happened? Or was he talking about Kuroo? Tsukishima did not know, nor did he want to know. Not if asking came at the expense of continuing down this path of conversation.

“Maybe not, but leave me alone with that guy again and it will kill you,” Tsuikishima scoffed to end the conversation, and continued to erase all evidence of yesterday.

\-------

 _"Ey, look who's not being a stranger,"_ sounded the cheery voice of Yui on the other side of the phone.

Tsukishima was lying back on his bed again after changing the sheets to escape any residue of alcohol and overly masculine shower gel. His so-called ‘diary’ was lying open in front of him, a blank page marked only with the current date in the corner was displayed. Displayed as a representation of the blank page that was his memories of yesterday. He wanted to write down the events of yesterday, to list all the steps taken from Kuroo’s arrival to their apartment to the unpleasant surprise that morning. 

Hoping his memories would appear as he systematically made a framework of reference. Then he could put the whole ordeal behind him. Kinda like how one can store away one’s memories for later convenience in the Pensieve in the Harry Potter universe. However, he had quickly realized that it’s kinda hard to rid yourself of memories you don’t have. 

He was lying on his stomach with his calves crossed in the air, and his fingers were toying with the clicker on top of the pen. Putting the pen experimentally down on the blank paper to start, only to have no idea how. It was embarrassing enough that he had had to resolve to the use of a diary once, but here he was again. Again with the need to make sense of something that should not be this difficult. With something that had a logical explanation. But his fuckings body refused to let him stop stressing about it. Stressing about every single detail of that morning instead of focusing on what was important, like the upcoming delayed tournament or exams. Fixating on how warm Kuroo’s body had felt, how naked he had been, the dark look in his eyes, the tenderness of his neck...ahh yes his neck. He had to do something about that. 

“Look who’s being dramatic,” Tsukishima said, rolling his eyes at her- though she would not see it through the phone.

 _“Well, we have not really been the best at keeping in contact these last few months,”_ she pointed out casually.

“Tch, just call me a dick or whatever,” Tsukishima answered back in a tired exhale of breath and rested his cheek on his outstretched upper arms, staring emptily at the screen. 

_“I’m equally to blame for that though, if not more. I’ve been so distracted with my own club, new friends, studies..and yeah, my feelings and everything,”_ she sighed with a smile lingering on her tone. 

“Maybe we really needed this,” Tsukishima chuckled lightly, wondering how long it had been since everything felt normal between them. It seemed so long ago, so long since she had been that constant and comfortable presence in his life. And if he was honest with himself, he kinda missed it. 

_“Yeah, I think you are right,”_ she said agreeing. _“So you called just to chat or what’s up?”_

“I kinda had a favour to ask from you,” Tsukishima mumbled reluctantly into his arm, wondering how to formulate his request.

_“I’m all ears,”_

“I have..” Tsukishima started, biting his lower lip hesitantly. “Could I come over before practice tomorrow?” 

_“I’m sure you can. But again, what’s up?”_

“I- I need you to help me cover up some marks on my...neck,” Tsukishima pushed out, lowering the volume of his voice when he spoke the last word.

There was a short silence.

 _“Wow haha, somebody moved on fast,”_ she chuckled loudly, ending the sentence with a whistle. 

“No, nothing like that,” Tsukishima deadpanned.

 _“Yeah sure Tsukki,”_ she answered in a voice where one could literally hear her rolling her eyes. _“Seriously, don’t worry. I’m not gonna judge...ok a little bit,”_ she laughed. _“but where would be the fun in not?”_

“Funny,”

_“Yeah, I know,”_

“It’s really not like that. Can you help or not?” 

_“Let’s pretend for a moment that I believe you. If it’s not a hickey, why do you need to cover up the ‘bug bite’ or whatever you pretend it is?”_

Tsukishima did not find the amusement in her voice particularly funny. He kinda wanted to stuff something in her face to block the shit-eating grin he just knew she currently had.

“Because of shit people like you,” Tsukishima scoffed.

_“Ok fair enough, when will you be here?”_

“7?”

 _“God forbid morning practice. Ugh, fine see ya then,”_ she answered despairingly and hung up. 

Tsukishima looked at the phone in front of him and then at the diary - scribbling a large question mark over the blank page. 

\-----------

The night had haunted Tsukishima with dreams of nameless heated touches. Touches of both high urgency and smooth teasing featherlessness. Electrifying his whole body, engulfing him in a new type of pleasure that penetrated through the deepest layers of his body. It was heat, passion, ecstasy, intensity, fever. It was complete. The source of these heightened feelings was a body of hard muscles and smooth caramel, the home of dark captivating eyes and confident smirks that sent chills down his spine. A body that dragged maddening kisses at the shell of his ear and down his neck, blowing vexing air at the crook of his neck as they chuckled in response to his loud reactions. Accompanied by the blaring sound of an alarm-

Tsukishima was quickly wrenched out of dreamland by the sound of the godforsaken morning alarm which signalled the arrival of a new day. A new day of responsibilities and have to’s- depriving him of the leisure to soak in the comfort of his bed and mystifying dreams. His eyelids were heavy, glued together with sleep and he struggled to open them to face reality.

Tsukishima swore loudly under his breath as he turned off the alarm and threw off his thin spring duvet. The heat felt suffocating, the early hour of the morning even more so. Tsukishima usually had no problems waking up early, but he felt especially drained this morning. The phone screen displayed 6:00 am in blinding, white letters in front of him where he was laying on his pillow, fighting against the drowsiness. For some short moments, he almost went back to sleep, forgetting the reason he had to wake up 2 hours before practice started in the first place. But something distracted him from it.

A hard, uncomfortable throbbing in his underwear, soaking the light grey fabric dark. 

You are fucking kidding with me, Tsukishima thought as he was looking down at the state of his dick, what I’m I? 15?

He laid still for a couple of seconds, contemplating what to do with the situation at hand, with the prominent morning wood between his legs. As he laid there, fingers itching to relief himself, the dream came seeping back to his conscious mind, reminding him of those nameless fingers touching his heated skin. How familiar the touch had felt. Though he was pretty damn sure he would remember if someone had touched him in such a manner. At least if that someone had a muscular, hard body that held him in a way that...no girl really could have. 

His dick reacted to the memory, to the sensation of the heat, and it jumped uncomfortably in their restrains to be touched…..touched by that somebody. It made no sense to Tsukishima what so ever. He had never looked at a guy in a remotely sexual way before, never sneaked looks in the shower, never admired the actors on tv, never had a hard body pressed to him in his fantasies when he jerked off (Last time it had been because of the adrenaline, not Kuroo). But this was clearly what his body wanted right now.

But why now? 

He did not want to entertain his nether region with these thoughts, did not want to touch his dick to the thought of what was clearly a man. Something about it did not completely surprise him for some reason. However, he should and would not accept such a fact about himself, an attraction to a guy...that was a dangerous rabbit hole to delve into. It had to be because of an instant of insanity, his mind playing tricks with him. His mind being a jerk for all the times he had been a jerk to others. He had no problems with homosexuality but being one was another matter.

Because there was just no way .. in the same way that there was just no way anything had happened with Kuroo. 

Kuroo… the thought of him abruptly brought the memories of just exactly why he was awake at this hour back to him. 

The marks, Yui, practice.

He glanced down at his phone. The time showed 06:16. He had laid there in memory of a confusing dream, of unconsciously wanted but consciously unwanted touches for more than fifteen minutes. He jumped off the bed, wincing at how the movements put pressure on his sensitive member and hurried out of the room to pack his training gear, eat and shower quickly so he would get to Yui’s house in time. A cold shower one might add. 

With a piece of toast in his hand and clad in a high neck sweater, he left for the 20-minute walk to Yui’s home. It was a magnificent spring day that bordered the heat and brightness of midsummer. It was like he was being transported into a new place, so different from the stuffed air and muted temperatures off their apartment. He closed his eyes and took a moment to bask in the light radiating from the sun. 

His thoughts wandered, taking him back to the summers in Sendai. He imagined the sky twinkling, all shiny and blue without a cloud to spot from morning to evening. With a sun that poured its gold and heat into abundance, and the ocean his family used to visit glistened under the sprinkling of sun gold. He envisioned the small dribbles on the ocean surface when the affectionate wind blew over the surface, the forest saturated with all the scents that belonged to midsummers, cooling under the shade of plump spruce trees. 

He missed home. He missed how uncomplicated his life was back then - even if it had not felt like it at that time. All he had needed at that time was to get away, just to realize that he was meant to stay. This was always supposed to be his bright new start, yet more than anything else, it had made him realize where home was, what home was. And Tokyo was not his home, it was simply a temporary state of being where he artificially made it seem like home by bringing a part of home with him, Yamaguchi.

Not that he would let Yamaguchi ever hear him say something so poetic.

After spending more time than he necessarily had on standing in the middle of the street with his eyes closed like an idiot, he walked with hurried steps to Yui’s apartment. 

“God this is too early for a Sunday,” Yui yawned as she opened the door to her apartment. She was clad in her Pajamas, a loose-fitting t-shirt of her favourite Naruto character.... Shikamaru was it? printed on the front and a pair of old basketball shorts. She gave him a lazy smile through the fog of sleep and stepped to the side to let Tsukishima enter. 

“Maybe if you stopped spending all-nighters playing Overwatch in PC cafes even though you are so busy with everything else, waking up like a normal person would not be a problem,” Tsukishima sniggered as he entered the door and dropped his gym bag by the entrance. 

“Waking up in the morning is not considered what a ‘normal person’ does when they are university students. You are just weird like that. And you don’t look too chippy yourself buddy,” she said with a wink in his direction and gestured for him to follow her into the bathroom.

“Soo...wanna tell me about it?” Yui said as she sat herself down on the toilet seat, wiggling her eyebrows in Tsukishima’s direction with a smirk painting her face. The bathroom was a brightly lit, small room with outdated, yellowed fixings and fittings. A fitting image of a broke college student’s life. The mirror was dirtied down by dried toothpaste splatters and makeup spots, and the sink was filled with various makeup items. 

“About..what?” Tsukishima asked confusedly, raising his eyebrows. He leaned against the door frame of the bathroom and crossed one leg over the other. 

“Gad sometimes you can be pretty dim for such a smart person,” she sighed as she rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

“Excuse me?” Tsukishima asked offended, and wrinkled his nose.

“About your marks smarty pants,” she said like that was the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it was, just Tsukishima had never been the best at social stuff in the first place.

“I already told you,” 

“No, that was exactly what you did not,” she said with a laugh, pinning his gaze with humoured eyes. “Though I’m kinda humoured that you dared to call your ex the day after she broke up with you to tell her about your kiss marks,” 

“I already told you that they are not,” protested Tsukishima with a sigh. Not wanting to continue down that path of the conversation. He had already decided that Kuroo’s story made sense and he did not need anybody to tell him otherwise. 

“Let me see then,” she said with a challenge in her eyes. Making Tsukishima squirm under the intensity of them. Again he could feel his vulnerable pride throb in his throat. Ordering him to run away so she could not tell him he was wrong. Though he knew the truth, the thought of her thinking he was that kind of person .. a hookup person, disagreed with everything that was Tsukishima. 

However, he had come here with a purpose. To cover up the marks so no more people would make the same assumption that Yui had made without even seeing the marks. The team might still believe that he had a girlfriend, but more likely than not they would have deducted the fact that they had broken up after deleting their cover photo on LINE. That was basically the most official way to convey a broken off relationship nowadays. Thus they would also probably assume that he had found himself some random rebound hookup during the weekend if they saw the marks. There was also the possibility of them actually believing that he indeed had been bit by a bug during the night, but he did not want to risk it. 

He grabbed the hem of the collar, bent his neck to make the marks visible and pulled down the thin material. Waiting for her response.

“You expect me to see anything from that distance?” she asked, looking at him as if he was stupid.

Sighing loudly, Tsukishima took a couple of three steps towards Yui, stopped as he stood before her and crouched down so she had a clear view of the dark marks. As he tilted his head to the side again to lay it all bare, Yui made a stifled snort and was clearly in the process of trying to not laugh.

“What?” growled Tsukishima dissatisfied. 

“Were you violated by a giant cockroach?” she chuckled, failing to keep it in any further. “The size of this thing, wow.” 

“Are you going to help me or continue imagining my intimate encounter with a giant cockroach?” Tsukishima deadpanned. 

“Sweety, I don’t know why you keep lying to me but I won’t help you before you actually let me know what happened,” she said semi-sternly as her laughter had died down. 

“Thought we established I had an encounter with a big cockroach,”

This comment only earned Tsukishima an unamused look.

“Can’t we just… let it be?” Tsukishima asked uncomfortably.

“Listen to me Tsukki,” she said gently, and placed her hands at his knees and squeezed lightly. “I don’t know if you are only lying to me, or also to yourself. But I can see what this is, and this is not like you. You had the sex drive of a stick most of the time, and I just want you to talk to me,”

“I..I-” Tsukishima stuttered confused. What she said made no sense, did not fit what had happened. His fears had come true, she was jumping to the wrong conclusions and he had no idea how to defend himself. 

“Don’t jump to your own conclusions,” he bit out through a wave of anger bubbling up in his chest. 

“I don’t understand why you are lying,” she said with a raised voice.

“Stop saying I am lying!”

“Then stop doing it! Were you actually sad that we broke up? Did you sleep with someone because of that?”

“Just stop it!”

“Tsukki-”

“No,”

“Please-”

“-I was drinking with Kuroo alone in my apartment, nothing could have happened, do you get it? Nothing!” Tsukishima practically shouted to her face, his face dark red from anger and stress. His limbs were shaking and his breath was heavy, his eyes a dangerous mix of conflicting emotions. His words were a mistake, however. Not something he had meant to say, but the anger had gotten the better of him. He shut his mouth tightly together as he realized his words and he quickly averted his eyes in shame. 

Yui became quiet, stunned to silence. She was watching the blonde with an unreadable expression. Tsukishima could see from the corner of his eyes that Yui was trying to make sense of what he just had said, her mouth closing and opening without any words coming out. They stood in a stalemate for a while, both too occupied in their own head to say anything, do anything. 

The silence was, however, cut after what felt way too long and at the same time way too fast by a dry cough on Yui’s side.

“Uhm, sit down here and I’ll find my makeup,” she said thickly as she stood up and gestured to the toilet seat. She took the single step towards her sink and proceeded to look around in the different makeup pouches placed there. Tsukishima stood up from his crouching position and sat down on the toilet seat as on autopilot, so awkward in his own skin that he did not know what to do with his limbs. He really really had not intended to say that. What was Yui thinking now? His chest felt too tight and the stupid doubt in his mind about what happened that night would not shut up. 

No, he thought as he shook his head, nothing happened, nothing could have happened. Stop being an idiot. 

Yui came quickly back in his line of view with four products in her lean fingers. 

“I think this will do,” she said stiffly and smiled tightly at him. 

She crouched down before him, asked him to pull down on his collar again before she started to work on his neck. She explained the steps to him, green colour corrector, concealer, foundation and powder. Explaining how she used the different products and where he could buy them for himself. 

“Depending on your skin, it might take a while before it disappears. So you should consider purchasing these things for yourself,” she said in a concentrated manner as she pushed the powder on his sensitive skin. Tsukishima only offered her a confirming grunt.

After the marks were covered and were next to impossible to see, he thanked her silently for her help while his gaze was pinned to the floor. He picked up his gym bag by the door and awkwardly fumbled with the thick strap as he stood by the door.

“Bye then, thanks again,” he mumbled to the floor.

“Hey Tsukki,” she said carefully, with awful warmth. 

“Hm?” he asked as he gazed up at her as a response to the tone.

“Just..don’t forget that you can talk to me. When you are ready that is,”

Tsukishima looked carefully at her, taking in the warmth she radiated. What was it that she wanted him to talk about so badly anyways? He had already explained. But he appreciated the sentiment now that the anger had disappeared. He nodded shortly towards her and made sure she picked up on the positive note behind it and left for morning practice. 

\-------------

**Kuroo.**

The locker room was filled with the heavy scent of sweat and testosterone. The practice had yet to start, however, the smell of countless sweaty training practices had seeped into the very foundation of the open room, permanently settling itself into the walls around them. It was maybe especially apparent now with the extra efforts the boys were putting into the practice with the tournament being right around the corner. The dark green lockers were stacked tightly in row, enclosing each sports club together in enclosed sections of the room. 

The volleyball club had been given the innermost corner of the room, forcing the members to undress and change tightly packed together in the space between their designated lockers. 

Kuroo was sitting with his legs placed widely apart at one of the wooden benches placed in the middle of their section, already changed into his practice outfit. He was talking to Akaashi, Oikawa and Iwaizumi as they were changing in front of him. 

His mind had however wandered off in the middle of it. Wandered to images that had haunted him throughout the whole of yesterday. Images that he tried to not visit, did not understand why he kept visiting. Those images of pale legs that seemed to go on forever, trailing up until dangerous areas, pale skin covered in dark marks. 

Kuroo excused the constant visitation of these images to the fact that it was a pretty fucked up situation to wake up to. No bloke would not be bothered by waking up naked next to a guy, and likely to not forget such a sight for a while. He wished he could feel a bit more disgusted by the whole ordeal though, but no matter how much he searched for it … it was not there. Only towards himself, and other confusing feelings he did not even try to label. But he had brushed it off by blaming it on shock, and that disgust would surely follow later. After all, that was what he knew it was. Disgusting. 

“You there Kuroo-san?” Akaashi asked, looking weirdly at him - making Kuroo leave his inner monologue for the conversation at large.

“Sorry, lost in thoughts,” Kuroo answered with a short smile, waving his hand to signal that there was nothing to worry about.

“About your cutie ex girlfriend maybe?” Oikawa teased with an overly sweet voice, fluttering his lashes in Kuroo’s direction.

“Ouch,” Kuroo said with a grin, the matter of his ex-girlfriend had completely left his mind in the midst of everything else. Making it easier now to dismiss, joke about. Which he guessed was one of the main reasons he had drunk in the first place. So if he had to name one good outcome of that godforsaken night, then that had to be it.

“Don’t pretend you did not deserve it,” Oikawa sing-songed, flipping his hair back. 

“Does he deserve your shit though?” Iwaizumi asked with a raised brow.

“My my Iwa-chan, you are being way too kind to him. Imagine if I - a girlfriend treated you that way?” Oikawa said, stuttering awkwardly in the middle of the sentence and finished weirdly with a tight expression on his face. Iwaizumi’s expression seemed to mirror the tightness of Oikawa’s and he quickly averted his eyes from the taller male. Kuroo looked intrigued at the pair in front of him with a big question mark on his face. Not understanding why things suddenly had become awkward. 

Akaashi, however, only seemed to sigh at them and roll his eyes.

“Ehm- no that's true. You are a shit Kuroo,” Iwaizumi stuttered. 

“Ey, you are always taking my side. What happened with my guy?” Kuroo pouted.

“Stop being a baby Kuroo-san,” Akaashi said unbothered. 

“First I lost my girlfriend, and now I’ve lost my friends. What a fate,” Kuroo uttered dramatically and put a hand on his forehead for added effect.

“Don’t worry. Bokuto will never leave you for your stupidity,” Akaashi commented calmly as he pulled down his t-shirt “That reminds me, Bokuto told me about your weekend,” he added and pinned searching eyes on Kuroo. 

This made Kuroo’s stomach flip uncomfortably. That was such a random comment that did not fit into the conversation at all. Why was he bringing up his weekend? What part of the weekend was he talking about? And why did he look at him with such inquisitive eyes? His mind went immediately to Tsukishima, to all the blank holes in his memory. To all answered questions that were not really answered, not truly. 

“Thought we already were discussing my breakup,” Kuroo said offhandedly, putting on a nonchalant smirk.

“About your little drinking adventure with Ts-” Akaashi started but was cut off by footsteps that signalled the arrival of a teammate. 

Kuroo shifted his attention to the arrival of a tall blonde with glasses and a bored expression. To Tsukishima. 

His throat tightened by the sight and it suddenly felt impossible to swallow. As their gazes met, Tsukishima halted. The time seemed to stop for a moment as they stood immobilized in each other's presence.There was this unexplainable warmth rushing through him at the sight of the younger, a need to reach out to him and ...do exactly what? Nothing made sense when it came to Tsukishima. The need to annoy him, the excitement as he was waiting for a message or a response, how much his thoughts were occupied by him, it all made no sense. 

It was unnatural and engulfed him with horror, made him nauseous. Warmth and horror mixing weirdly inside the mess that Kuroo had become. 

“Good morning Tsukishima-kun,” Akaashi greeted after what could have been an uncomfortable stretch of time or within a couple of seconds. Kuroo did not know. He was only grateful that Akaashi had the sense to not continue the topic at hand. But it was Akaashi we were talking about after all, it was not that surprising. 

“Good morning Akaashi-san,” Tsukishima greeted calmly. He then turned to greet Iwaizumi before he walked to his designated locker and opened it. Kuroo could hear Oikawa in the background mutter ‘good morning’ in a childish mimicking way, his expression contorted in a displeased manner. 

“How was your weekend?” Akaashi asked Tsukishima, and grabbed his volleyball shoes from his locker and shut it gently. 

“Nothing to write home about,” Tsukishima shrugged nonchalantly and stripped out of his high neck, weather inappropriate sweater. Kuroo’s gaze immediately locked onto the smooth, unmarked skin of Tsukishima’s neck. 

It suddenly felt a bit easier to breathe. Easier to convince himself that yesterday’s mark was simply a heat mark, small bug bites or a similarly logical explanation for the appearance of those peppered marks. Letting out an easy breath, he removed his gaze from the blonde’s skin and refused to look at the rest of the exposed skin. 

“I’m sure that would be an awkward letter indeed,” Akaashi commented. It made both the boys splutter in surprise. Tsukishima seemed to struggle with his composure, his limbs becoming stiff and he sent a dark, accusing look in Kuroo’s direction. Making the raven swallow thickly. 

“Oh were bean-stalk-chan up to something naughty in a post-breakup depression?” Oikawa chimed in with a satisfied smirk, his hand placed on his hips. “Removing her picture on LINE, such a DEAD giveaway” he sniggered.

“Hardly,” Tsukishima deadpanned. Though his posture still did not seem as unbothered as his tone seemed to imply.

“If getting drunk is considered naughty,” Akaashi explained boredly, sighing at Oikawa. 

This made the pair lower their shoulders slightly. Still not out of the danger zone, but safe for now.

“Come on idiot, you are done changing,” Iwaizumi commented and slapped the back of Oikawa’s head with his volleyball shoes. He then proceeded to walk out of the changing room with Oikawa sulking at his heels.

“See you guys at the court,” Kuroo said hurriedly as he stood up from the bench to exit the conversation, the room as fast as possible with the pair.

As he was passing by Tsukishima on his way out, his exposed upper arm brushed lightly against the naked back of Tsukishima. Sending sparks through him, and images started to quickly flash before his eyes. Images of naked skin on naked skin, of intimate touches and swollen lips on his ears. Making him halt in his steps and looking astounded up at the blonde boy. He could not see the expression on Tsukishima’s face, however, he could visibly see how his body had halted in its movement as well.

The images seemed familiar, yet so distant as well. They were so wrong, impossible. There was no way they belonged to him. Maybe the alien invasion Oikawa had been talking about was really real. After all, that seemed like the most likely scenario right now. Way more realistic than those heated touches of Tsukishima. Those heated touches that made him hate himself.

He quickly shook his head, forcing himself to get rid of the sudden images, the rush through his body, to focus on what was important. Volleyball and the volleyball tournament. 

As he exited the secluded corner, he could swear he heard a tired sigh from Akaashi. 

\------- 

The tournament had started awfully late that year. A sudden collapse of the west-wing ceiling of the tournament centre in April had made it necessary to reschedule the otherwise fixed time to the start of June. If Kuroo was to be completely honest with himself, he had almost forgotten why he was practising so hard in the first place. With the delay and everything else that had occupied his mind this whole semester, the upcoming tournament had in a sense become a secondary priority.

It was not like the coach and captain had not talked about it, reminded them, but it had seemed so far into the future that more pressing matters had occupied most of his thinking capacity. Which was ridiculous. It really was. Kuroo lived and breathed volleyball, all steps taken had always been with the tournament in mind. A goal that never left his conscious and unconscious mind. Yet, he had let other matters take charge of his brain.

Who had he become? 

As Kuroo was staring down from the bleachers at the ongoing game, he felt like an idiot. A complete idiot. Suddenly the prospect of Ayako spreading dirt on him, his confusion around Tsukishima, the disgust he felt with himself, seemed secondary to what unfolded in front of him, the game, the rush. Who cared if people talked behind his back if the price for silence came with the sacrifice of what was really important. Who cared about his wrong, alien-infested feelings if they made him lose sight of the game. Kuroo knew the truth, he knew who he was, and that should have been enough...shouldn't it?

The players moved in practised synchronization, fluid and natural like breathing itself. Desperate digs, coordinated attacks, powerful blocks, and impressive spikes were all unfolding in front of him, captivating Kuroo’s mind. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, being here in this environment. 

When had he forgotten this?

Kuroo removed his gaze from the match for a second to gaze over his teammates. To remind himself of who he was, who he was a part of and why he had been working so hard all these years. To win, as a team. To feel the rush of the game, as a team. He was not alone, yet he had completely isolated himself in his brain. 

His gaze fell on Bokuto who was cheering loudly, arms flailing around as he was cheering despite having no idea who the teams playing were. Akaashi looked as bored as ever at the first glance, but if you studied him carefully, you could see his sharp analyzing gaze studying every movement of the game in detail. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were hurdled close together, whispering small commentaries of the game in each other's ears. Sharing an intimacy that seemed so foreign to Kuroo. Then there was Tsukishima. Kuroo’s gaze halted, stopped for much longer. Lingering on how he sat, how he rested his chin on his knuckles, how that smirk signalled a forming plan in Tsukishima’s mind, how bewitching those eyes looked painted in sharp intensity. Like clockwork, the younger boy stopped everything else. 

This is when I forgot, Kuroo thought to himself. 

He did not want to label it. Did not want to admit anything else. Those thoughts made him sick to his stomach again. Made a huge lump form in his throat, dried it out. It was so wrong, he felt so disgusting in his own skin. Like he had become somebody else, someone he did not recognize. Reminded him why it was important to keep up appearances, why rumours were dangerous, why he needed to fix his little problem. These thoughts churned around his brain like a thick porridge, again distracting him from here and now. From what had been important to him for as long as he could remember. Throbbing painfully, Kuroo took hold of his hair and pulled harshly - attempting to force the mess away.

The weight of somebody’s warm hands on his exposed knees pulled him out of his deteriorating mind, making him quickly flick his gaze up to meet a pool of liquid honey and sunshine only centimetres away from him. Eyes that dragged him in, enchanted him in a way that nothing else has ever been able to do. Shock flickered behind the pool, stilling as they gazed beyond the surface of each other. The touch of those pale, long fingers burned at the exposed skin of his thighs, making the muscles contract together as in a reflex. Imprinting the touch permanently to his skin. 

His gaze flickered down, landing on those soft, pink-hued lips. Images of swollen, red-kissed lips flashed before his mind. How Tsukishima had bit down on those plump lips, embarrassment colouring his face as those eyes were pinning his own with electricity dancing between them. How those eyes had locked on Kuroo’s own mouth in the most alluring way. How Kuroo had pulled at those blonde curls that framed Tsukishima’s face so beautifully, pulling him towards himself and crashed their lips together desperately. Fitting perfectly together, moving with passion and lust. How those pretty fingers had clung to him desperately as the heat between them rose. The images flashed quick, felt impossible to stop and Kuroo’s facial expression scrunched uncomfortably together in horror to how his present body reacted to the images. 

Then the moment quickly ended as Tsukishima quickly retracted with panic in his eyes, averting his gaze and grabbing nervously at his hands.

“Y-you tripped me, idiot,” mumbled Tsukishima hurriedly as he turned around and left the bleachers.

Kuroo sat stunned. The images lingering in his mind. Heating his inside, sending excited shivers through him. This was all so wrong, so against all social norms, so disgusting. What had just happened? What were those images? Those images that felt so right yet his mind protested against them with everything he got. 

“Get a grip, we are soon playing,” Akaashi said and clapped Kuroo harshly on the back.

\--------

There is one thing that Kuroo could always rely on. He could always rely on the fact that once he stepped on that court, he could put everything behind him. It always felt like magic. Like he had entered an enchanted circle where all dangers of the outside world could not enter, despite how much he was otherwise distracted. Like nothing else mattered once he crossed that first white line that separated the court and the regular outside area. He was focused, pumped, excited…. he was ready. The court had always been his safe place, ever since he first had picked up that volleyball all those years ago, and now it encircled him in a protective layer once again. His worries, confusions, panic, all left outside of that white line. Ready to be picked up once the spell of the game was broken. 

The opposing team was coloured in a horrible combination of salmon pink and tawny brown uniforms. Additionally, they seemed to rely more on brawns than brains. They sent cannonball like serves that landed outside the court almost as often as it went in and otherwise played the sport like it was an individual sport. The setter became incredibly easy to read throughout the game as he seemed to prefer a setter dump above actually setting to the wing spikers. Kuroo and Tsukishima moved in sync, questions and tension left off the court to form a wall of protection for their side of the court. Blocking the nth setter dump as the team seemed not to be one to adjust itself when facing adversity. 

They were stacking up points, proving how indeed synergy is the root of a successful team, how brute force could not make up for the lack of technique. The Tokyo National University team had a libero that received cannonballs like they were inflatable beach balls, blockers that combined read blocking with instincts, wing spikers that had the technical skill to utilize their power in a strategic manner and a setter who could bring out the full potential of the team. They were a deadly combo, bound to smash through the challenges before them. 

The last point was taken by the captain as he tipped the ball cheekily over the double block before him, ending the match after two sets to Tokyo National University. Securing them one more opportunity to play a match, the right to stay on the court longer. 

The next two matches were completed in a similarly impressive fashion. The opponents had risen in skill and technical level, posing a larger threat than the one before. Threatening to drag the match out to three sets but only barely falling short of the opportunity to do so. 

Tsukishima and Kuroo were blocking together as if they had played on the same team for years, exchanging small looks that communicated far more beyond normalcy. Seemingly sharing an understanding of the game, will to win and technical level of blocking. Their hands touched, shoulders bumped, without imaging flashing and heat souring. Making Kuroo convince himself that what had happened earlier was only another moment of lunacy, a memory who did not belong to him. He was touching Tsukishima, and it was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing confusing. He was normal.

That is, until they won their third match and successfully moved on to day two. 

As the ball hit the palm of Kuroo’s hand, it ricocheted to Tsukishima’s left palm before smashing to the ground with the euphoria of victory on their side. They turned simultaneously towards each other, the ecstasy of triumph apparent on their faces as they shouted their lungs out in happiness. Kuroo was the first one to move, he grabbed the other male by the shoulders and drew him in a crushing hug in blissful forgetfulness. Tears staining the corner of his eyes as the rest of the team celebrated loudly around them, bashing in the glory. 

“Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima whispered, breathing tingling air in Kuroo’s ear. Such a gentle breath of air yet it washed over him as rogue waves egged on by a storm. A wave of lust that triggered more vague memories of a night shared by drunken mistakes, like he had lost the key to his own mind but could still peek through parts of the keyhole. 

The brain almost magically retrieves information and recreates moments for us. But just as much, memories could be a very unreliable friend who follows their very own rules. In this incident, it had to be the latter. An unreliable friend that has created falsehoods about the night in question. About those intimate moments of shared kisses, swallowed moans and exploring hands.

He wrenched himself out of his own embrace of the younger, looking up at him with a red flushed face in a mix of embarrassment, anger and disgust. Taking quick steps back away from Tsukishima, burying his mouth in the crook of his elbow in bewilderment for how to tackle the situation. Tsukishima was looking back at him confused, an embarrassed blush decorating his face. The piercing eyes looking vulnerable, threatening to captivate him.

“D-don’t whisper my name like that. Blowing air onto my ear and everything. That’s so gay and so disgusting, just..keep away from me,” Kuroo practically shouted out to Tsukishima, in a volume that was completely hearable to most of the team members. While he kept backing away, his gaze flicked sideways to find the confused eyes of his teammates staring back at him. Backing him into a corner. It all felt too much, too overwhelming. He had no idea how to deal with everything. They had just won, and now their victory had been ruined. Tsukishima had ruined everything. 

So he did the only thing he could think of, turn at his heel and run back to the changing room to escape, to cool off. He knew that the rest of the team would migrate to the bleachers to watch the remaining matches, giving him the opportunity to escape reality for a little while. Though not for long, he did after all have to take the bus home together with the team later. However, for now, he was left to his own devices. Left to self-destruct in peace.

Which was exactly what he did. Pulling at his hair until his scalp burned, scratching deep red marks into his arms as the images would not stop appearing before his eyes. His heart would not stop beating hard in his chest as he remembered the shocked, vulnerable look in Tsukishima’s eyes. As he remembered the heat of his touch, how much his body begged him to lose himself in the younger’s embrace. He just could not accept this, would not accept it. It had to be a lie.

Kuroo had no idea how long he had been sitting like that. Mentally beating himself up in confusion and disgust, feeling tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. 

The sound of approaching footsteps made him look up, quickly drying his wet eyes on his sleeve. From the corner of the lockers appeared the figure of Akaashi, face painted in unusual anger. It was barely there, but so apparent after years of knowing the small shifts in the monotone guy. Leaning on the locker, he crossed his arms stiffly in front of his body and locked dark eyes on Kuroo.

Kuroo tensed. 

“You crossed the line Kuroo-san,” Akaashi commented sharply.

“I don’t see how that is any of your concern,” Kuroo barked out.

“We are teammates. It’s my business if you are being an unreasonable dick,” rebutted Akaashi. 

“It’s not unreasonable to be disgusted when a guy does s-something like that,” Kuroo pressed out in anger.

Akaashi scoffed.

“Something like what?” Akaashi challenged.

“Fuck you,” Kuroo growled for nothing better to answer back with. Earning him an eye roll as a response. 

“Stop behaving like a big, fuckings cliche,” Akaashi deadpanned, pushing himself off the locker. “Whatever your problem is, just get over it.” Leaving Kuroo to his own device once again. 

This started another process of reflection and mixed emotions in him.

The bus ride home had been awkward, to say the least. He had sat next to Bokuto who kept questioning him about what had happened on the court, between him and Tsukishima. Kuroo didn’t know how to respond. The moments of reflection had calmed him somewhat down, making him realize that it was him after all that had initiated the hug. That he had no right to actually yell at Tsukishima for something that he had done. He could admit to himself that he had overreacted. 

But he was dealing with a new side of himself that he could not accept, could not accept existed. The boy was infuriating, and he had all the reason in the world to freak out by the images that flickered through his mind as their heated skin connected, the feeling it gave him. But it was he that was the disgusting one, not Tsukishima. So he only mumbled a vague ‘It was a misunderstanding,’ in Bokuto’s direction to make it all go away. 

As they had exited the bus, Tsukishima had walked past him and without looking at Kuroo he had said,

“Don’t let our problems affect your playing tomorrow,” before he went ahead and left for home. Kuroo had stayed back, delaying walking home by requesting some individual practice with Bokuto. Which he gladly agreed to, flexing his muscles in excitement. Providing Kuroo with the opportunity to blow some frustration away.

\--------

The awkwardness in store for the second day of the tournament came faster than Kuroo had anticipated.

Getting an excused absence from school, Kuroo and Bokuto had left their apartment at 7, continuing the chatter over breakfast about their upcoming matches. They had debated on different strategies that would be effective against the various players based on the information they had gathered by watching official records of their opponents matches the previous evening. Reminding the excited owl that he had to remember to utilize both his cross and line shots effectively.

“But you know bro, nothing is as cool as nailing a supercross shot. Just ‘woosh’ across the blockers, and BAM down at the opponent's court,” Bokuto chatted on, waving his hands animatedly to emphasize his points. 

“True. But nothing is lamer than getting your cross shots blocked when there was a super good opportunity to use a straight,” commented Kuroo, waving his hand at Bokuto with his signature grin in place. 

“Ughh that's the wors- HEY HEY HEY Tsukki!” Bokuto stopped mid-sentence to wink excitedly in front of him, running a bit in front to meet with the dreaded person Kuroo knew would stand just ahead, waiting for the elevator, if he shifted his gaze. 

“Good morning Bokuto-san,” Tsukishima said in awful neutrality. Kuroo shifted his gaze, taking in the appearance of the younger. He looked nothing out of ordinary, yet his stomach churned by the sight of those long, bouncing curls that framed the younger as a halo. 

“Ready to beat some ass today?” Bokuto asked as he locked his elbow around the younger's neck, looking up at him in a too close for comfort manner. Making Tsukishima stretch his neck to put some distance between them. 

“If by ass, you mean our opponents. Then yes, that’s what we have been training for,” Tsukishima commented matter of factly, and entered the elevator with Bokuto in tow. 

Accepting the fact that he could not stand like an idiot in the middle of the hallway, he followed the pair into the elevator. 

“ Tsukki my man, that’s what I like to hear,” Bokuto laughed out and reached up to rub a closed fist into those bouncing curls.

Kuroo was silently looking at them, feeling jealous of how effortless Bokuto’s interactions with Tsukishima were. Jealous of how uncomplicated it all was. To Bokuto, skinship was natural. It was nothing but comradery behind his touche, his finger didn’t burn and his heart didn’t skip a beat when he came in contact with the younger. 

Why was everything so complicated with him? But most of all, if he hated it so much, why could he just not simply leave Tsukishima be? Despite all that, however, he would not let it affect how he played. That was the one area in which he never could forgive himself if he fucked up. Just like Tsukishima had said with eerie calmness yesterday, whatever this shit was, he should and would never compromise his play.

“I heard that the coach was planning to use 6-2 with Akaashi-san today, which means you might get benched Bokuto-san,” Tsukishima commented as they stood immobilized in the tight space of the elevator. 

Kuroo couldn’t resist, he had to snigger. It was such a low-key jab from Tsukishima. Such a magnificently Tsukishima thing to do, something that never stopped to humour him. Before everything had changed, he had lied for hours anticipating the ping of his phone to announce the incoming sass from the other. He had aggravated and joked with the younger, always looking forward to all the different expressions he would make. Uncover new sides of him, see facial expressions, emotions very few others see. However, he would never stop being amazed by how easily and cheekily he jabbed back, spitted out fantastically rude comebacks. It had stopped being a game of dominance, transforming into a hobby, a need. 

“Me? Why me?” Bokuto exclaimed with a whine. His face dropping like a kicked puppy. 

“Because you suck at that rotation in practice. You get confused by the concept of two setters,” Kuroo barked out with his signature hyena laugh. A laugh that felt so natural, yet so unfamiliar. When was the last time he actually felt like himself? Let himself just be?

He stole a look at Tsukishima, really looking at the guy that was the root of all his problems. Yet, he had to ask himself. Was Tsukishima the problem or was he himself? He had been pushing everyone away in favour of the loneliness of his brain. Refusing to accept anything his brain was trying to tell him and in the process refusing to accept anyone else. And apparently, only a little piece of familiarity from Tsukishima brought that to his consciousness. He was drawn to the guy with the strength of neodymium magnets, overreacting to every piece of information. Even if he could not accept that part of himself, maybe he could just accept that he didn't accept it. Stop letting it dictate his life. Stop letting it affect his relationship around him. Even with Tsukishima. 

He could feel his lips stretching out in a small, genuine smile. There was something so calming about making something clear, have a direction. He could have a relationship with Tsukishima, could revert back to the humorous relationship they had no matter how his body reacted to him. He would just ignore it. Not accept it. 

Tsukishima met his eyes, cocking his head questioningly at the way Kuroo was smiling in his direction. Connecting liquid honey with dark midnight, and Kuroo could feel his insides liquidize.

God easier said than done, Kuroo thought to himself. 

It seemed however that Tsukishima remembered that he was pissed at Kuroo, and quickly averted his gaze with a sour expression.

Bokuto on his end was tugging at his hair and making frustrating sounds, whining about not wanting to be benching.

“But how are you supposed to know which setter to focus on when there are two?” Bokuto complained as he exited the elevator first. They continued to subtly bully Bokuto all the way to the meeting spot of the bus without actually any interactions between himself and Tsukishima. The blonde refused to acknowledge him, but had apparently grown enough to not let it affect his interaction with Bokuto.

The quarter-final went surprisingly well. It may have been due to the fact that the Denki Uni. team had a playing style that their own team was especially efficient against. A playing style that relied much more on offence than defence, leaving open glaring holes in their ability to keep the ball connected. 

And Kuroo had been able to keep his promise to himself, to not let anything affect the way he played. 

The semi-finals had been way trickier. The first set went to the opposing team, who won almost too easily to a 16-25 score. The way they played had reminded him so much of Karasuno. A team that stayed unpredictable the whole way, aggressive on the offence with several different techniques that kept unfolding as the set went on and a couple of stable receivers that acted as the foundation for the team as a whole. Kuroo had noticed from the annoyed wrinkles above Tsukishima’s eyebrows that he saw the similarity too. Saw how Tsukishima was wrecking his brain to make strategic plays and use the familiarity to his advantage. Which he did. Amazingly so. During the interim between the first and second set, Tsukishima had asked to be heard by his team. 

He had laid out what he had observed and came up with a plan to utilize the 6-2 formation and use it to their advantage. It had worked beyond everyone's expectations. That is not to say it was an easy win, but they won. And much was because of him. 

The team had all embraced Tsukishima after the win, even Oikawa seemed to forget his dislike for the blonde in a moment of post-game rush and adrenaline. Kuroo had joined in, but not really touching Tsukishima. Only slipping his arms around the other hurdling team members. But this gave him the perfect view of Tsukishima’s flustered and awkward composure as he was exposed to unwanted and unfamiliar skin skip. 

Kuroo could not help himself, smiling like an idiot in Tsukishima’s direction. Laughing so freely at that moment. They had won, they were going to the finals. And his worries seemed so insignificant at that moment. 

When they had shuffled back into the locker room in loud banter and laughter, Akaashi had silently fallen in step with him. Looking quizzically up at the taller male.

“So, are you over it?” Akaashi asked 

Kuroo did not answer at first. Uncertain about how to approach the question. How honest he should be. He really wanted to stop pushing people away, but the fear of rejection and judgement kept clenching at his heart. His own disgust with himself still made his stomach churn in a nauseating way. His blatant denial of his wants made him feel guarded. Made him into a person he was not. 

Where had the cheery, non-caring guy gone? 

“Working on it,” Kuroo answered as honestly as he could muster through his denial.

Akaashi nodded, seemingly content by the answer for now. 

“Don’t forget that you still need to apologize,” 

\-------

They had lost the finals.

They had gone until three full sets. The Tokyo National team had gone out as the victorious after the first set, feeling hopeful and confident that they could walk away with the victory in their pocket. Their synergy was on point, the ball stayed connected. However, it had not been enough. The opposing team was calculating, always watching. By the time the second set had been wrapped up, they read them like an open book, their movements accustomed to how Bokuto spiked, how Oikawa set and how their team flowed as a unit. Which only became so much more apparent during the third and final fourth set. A couple of very humiliating sets. 

“You played well,” the coach said in his dark, crispy voice where he was standing at the side of the court with his arms crossed. 

How Kuroo hated those words. ‘You played well’, well not good enough to win. They had done their best, had no injury to blame, yet it fell short.

“The team today was simply better than you guys. There is no other way around it, and I won’t sugarcoat it. So take these feelings of defeat with you, don’t let them go and push harder, train harder for the winter tournament,” the coach continued, making sure to look every one of his players in the eyes, conveying the seriousness behind those words. Those words that mirrored the desire in all of them to win, to stay on the court. “Go wash up and change, and we will meet by the bus in 30-40 minutes,” he finished.

The team was standing quietly, feet planted sturdily at the ground, unwilling to move. Like moving would make the loss reality, that leaving the court area would solidify the end. Their fists were clenched at their sides, tears trickled down puffy cheeks. The loss hurt. Kuroo could feel it taking hold of his heart, clenching so hard that he could barely breathe. Suffocating. He could feel Bokuto shaking next to him, his body sending vibrations through the connected skin of their upper arms as he tried to keep it all in. Sobbing quietly for himself. 

“Come on team, let’s not extend the inevitable,” the captain called out, clapping his hands together to get their attention. The various members looked up from their floor pinned gaze, drying their teary eyes on the back of their forearm. They looked in defeat at each other, looking for the strength to take that first step. 

“Come on,” Iwaizumi mumbled to Oikawa, placing a gentle arm at his back and guided him carefully in the direction of the exit. The touch seemed so intimate, like a silent conversation of encouragement and care were exchanged between them in a matter of moments. 

Watching their back made something sting inside him, making him aware of a hole, a missing piece that was previously unknown to him. A dark corner in his heart that had yet to be lit. 

Kuroo switched his gaze to his shaking friend next to him, taking in his trembling lip and the spiralling of his thoughts that was so obvious on the spiker’s face. It was Kuroo’s responsibility to take charge here, to support his friend. Bokuto’s lows could be as extreme as his highs, and it had become his role over the past couple of years to step up when he hit those lows. 

“Bokuto,” Kuroo said silently, the name of his friend sounding almost foreign on his lips. So used to only converse with ‘bro’ or ‘man’. 

The spiker did not respond.

“Bokuto, can you hear me?” Kuroo asked again and shook his shoulder lightly. Bokuto seemed to respond to the touch, meeting Kuroo’s eyes with his own teary ones.

“We lost,” Bokuto let out in a broken breath, his face full of disbelief. 

“Yeah,” Kuroo agreed breathlessly, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He clapped the other heavily on the shoulder, signalling for Bokuto to follow him. Bokuto only nodded slowly and fell in step with Kuroo to the changing room. 

Kuroo hadn’t looked for Tsukishima’s reaction. Didn’t think he could manage to face him at that moment. His emotions already messed up enough to involve the extra mess that the younger always stirred up inside of him. 

The atmosphere in the locker room was heavy, a depressing blanket that suffocated their inhabitants. Nobody was saying anything, their eyes stained red and their throats dry. There was nothing to say to make the situation better. They had lost. That was the reality of the situation no matter how hard it was to accept it. 

The process of changing and getting in the shower was slow. Like every movement was painful, bringing them further and further away from the court. From the rush of excitement, the electricity of the game, the connection of the ball. Changing out of their game uniforms felt so painful, knowing the next time they would wear it was long into the future. But it had to be done. 

Kuroo pulled his light blue and yellow uniform shirt over his head, looking somberly at the number 4 at the back of it. Wondering how long he would be able to wear it next time, how long they would be able to stand on the court. He stuffed the shirt almost violently down his training bag and quickly pulled off his shorts, wanting to quickly engulf himself in streaming water. Hide his tears with the running water. 

It helped, even if just a little bit. Transported parts of his pain away, the heat relaxing his tense shoulder as the gentle drops submerged him. His mind wandered away from the loss itself, starting instead to imagine how the loss had looked on Tsukishima’s face. How he had taken the loss, how much his botherless expression from High School had changed after he found his passion. Then he thought about Akaashi’s words,

“Don’t forget that you still need to apologize,” 

He really had fucked up. He should really apologize for taking his internal turmoil out on the younger, for blaming him for his own disgusting thoughts. 

He made up his mind. He would apologize before the ride home, make sure that they were as ok as they could in light of their circumstances. Hoping things could go back to how they were. Maybe then he himself would go back to how he was.

He needed Tsukishima to accept his apology, to put everything where they belonged- in the past. However, based on their whole history together, he didn’t think it would be easy.

For now, however, he wanted to prolong the encounter. So he kept staying immobilized with the shower running, wrapping him in a comfortable blanket until he could not sense that there was anybody else left in the shower. 

I’ll corner him by the bus, he thought for himself as he turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around him. 

Stepping out of the shower section with his additional towel, drying his messy hair in the process, he stopped dead in his tracks as he spotted Tsukishima standing by his locker in the otherwise empty room. Standing with the milky white skin of his upper body exposed, holding up the light blue and yellow uniform with the number 8 displayed on the backside, watching it in the same manner that he had earlier. 

Kuroo’s eyes were raking those smooth muscles of his body, imagining how it would be to trace them with the tips of his fingers. He should have looked away, stop bathing in the image of Tsukishima’s nakedness, but he could not. Could not make himself look away. 

When had Tsukishima entered the locker room? Had he stayed behind on the court, hiding his feelings and tears from his teammates? It sounded like something he would have done. So prideful as the boy was, not used to show his vulnerable sides to anyone. 

Tsukishima folded the shirt gently, stroking those pretty fingers over the material before placing it gently in his bag. In stark contrast to how Kuroo has treated his own. He shifted, probably to finish dressing out of his uniform shorts when the movement made Kuroo appear in his line of view. He stiffened, his movements halting a second in shock. It was apparent that Tsukishima had believed that he was the only one left in the otherwise deserted space. His red puffy eyes wide, looking as if he was caught in the act of doing something he should not. 

The moment was over before it almost began, and Tsukishima turned back to his locker and brought out his uniform t-shirt again from where it was just neatly folded together. It was clear to Kuroo that Tsukishima was about to run away, to forgo changing and showering to get away from him.

It was now or never. He had to apologize. Even though he wished he would not be practically naked as he did so. 

“Tsukishima,” Kuroo started uncertainly, using his full name instead of the usual nickname to convey his sincerity. 

It seemed to make the other stop in his tracks, yet again. It was only so visible how Tsukishima’s guard, his walls were wrapping themselves thickly around him. How the old Tsukishima of before, before they had accepted each other’s presence was manifesting itself before him.

“Since when have you called me that? Are you trying to suddenly become decent? A bit too late for that,” Tsukishima snarled, looking stiffly at the hollow space inside the locker. Clenching his fists tightly. 

“Sorry i-” Kuroo started, but he didn’t know what to say. How to apologize, how to word a sincere apology when he could not even be sincere with himself. He knew he was staring at the younger boy, staring in a way that was highly inappropriate … but he was still denying it. Denying what it meant. 

Tsukishima suddenly shut the locker door harshly, the sound echoing in the spacious room. Turning around, he looked darkly at Kuroo, fury in his eyes as liquid honey solidified to burning amber. 

“Oh is Mr high and mighty jock trying to apologize? Don’t bother, you shouldn’t strain yourself with someone so _disgusting_ like myself,” Tsukishima said mockingly, the mean undertone as apparent as the day was bright. Wrinkling his nose, the cold eyes watching Kuroo like he was dead to him. It made his stomach flip uncomfortably, it had been such a long time since Tsukishima had looked at him with real dislike. And he didn’t like it, not one bit. It felt so wrong. 

“Tsukishima, could you just listen?” Kuroo asked with a straight voice, trying to convey his sincerity with his tone. Meeting Tsukishima’s dark raged eyes with his own clear ones. He had to put away his confusion. He had to do this right. Because Tsukishima’s gaze felt more wrong than anything else. Far beyond the thoughts that his brain screamed at for being wrong. 

“I think I've heard enough,” Tsukishima barked, sending a short look back to the locker. As if he regretted closing it in his anger, de facto closing an easy escape of this conversation. “But noted, I’ll stay away from you,” he continued through gritted teeth. 

“That’s not what-”

“Yes Kuroo-san, that’s exactly what you meant,” Tsukishima cut him short, anger radiating from the younger. 

“If you just let me expla-”

“Explain what exactly Kuroo-san?” Tsukishima spitted out as poison, raising a judging brow. “How you are so obviously disgusted by me? Obviously disgusted by what happened between us?” 

Kuroo looked confused for a second, staring blankly at the younger. What had happened between them? He didn’t understand what exactly Tsukishima was referring to. 

Tsukishima let out a cold, humourless laugh.

“Don’t pretend you don’t remember at least something of what happened that night. I might only remember certain images, but the obvious look of shock and disgust on your face whenever we touch makes it obvious that you are getting your memories back too. Don’t take me for an idiot,” Tsukishima shouted out, his body shaking in anger and his clenched fist were turning white from trying to hold himself back. “I take the hint, so just leave,” 

“Don’t just jump to conclusions!” Kuroo shouted back against his better judgement. The blatant refusal of Tsukishima to listen to him, Tsukishima calling himself disgusting, riled him up. Made him desperate to get through to him. “And what hint are you even talking about?”

Tsukishima scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“That you can’t accept what happened as a ridiculous mistake and move on,”

“I’m trying, but it’s not that fuckings easy,” Kuroo continued to shout, all restraint lost with the tension in the room and the mention of that night. The memory of those images, those touches. He could feel his own body starting to shake, mirroring Tsukishima. 

“Oh poor little jock, must have crushed your feeble ego to have done such a thing with a man,” Tsukishima mocked.

“So you have no problem accepting what happened?” Kuroo shouted out almost hysterically, his mind trying to wrap itself around what they were talking about. 

“Of course I do, but that does not mean I have to act like a total dick about it,” Tsukishima growled back at him.

“I’m trying to say I’m fuckings sorry!”

“And I said I don’t need a fuckings apology from somebody that looks at me like dirt on his shoes,” Tsukishima said with awful finality, calmness long gone from his voice. He turned away from Kuroo and moved to open his locker again. To leave. But Kuroo could not let it end here, way too wind up to stop now. Way too angry, his emotions way too confusing, acting like a storm inside his body.

Kuroo quickly cancelled the space between them in quick steps, his nakedness completely forgotten. He slammed shut the locker door with his right hand, resting his shaking arm over Tsukishima’s shoulder, almost grazing the delicate skin of his neck. His body was resting only centimetres away from the naked upper body of Tsukishima’s back. It was such a cliche move, but Kuroo had moved on instinct, in anger. Trapping Tsukishima between his body and locker to stop him, make him listen, understand. 

“Get away from me,” Tsukishima growled, stopping in his tracks.

“Not before you listen,” Kuroo said, trying to calm his voice without too much success.

Tsukishima turned around in Kuroo’s hold, rested his back against the locker and looked at Kuroo with those same burning amber eyes.

“I’ve said no. Are you deaf in addition to dumb now?” Tsukishima essentially spat out. Tears forming in the corner of the younger’s eyes, anger, frustration and hurt all mixing together.

“Can you stop being a prick for one second? Just give me the chance to make up for my mistakes,” Kuroo asked darkly, voice raspy and deep from shouting. Staring harshly back at those burning eyes.

“It was clearly not a mistake. Your disgust is apparent all over your dumb face every fuckings time we touch,” Tsukishima gritted out, clearly in no state of mind to listen.

“It- God Tsukishima it’s not.. it’s not you who are disgusting,” Kuroo said despairingly, frustration level passing anything he remembers to have felt before. The desperation level ridiculous, anger swelling in his chest. 

“Let me go bastard,” 

That was the last straw. His last restraint had snapped.

If Tsukishima would not listen, he would make him.

Kuroo had no hesitation left at that moment. Instinct taking over for mind.

He wrapped his available arm around Tsukishima’s naked torso, pulling the pale body against his own tanned skin. Feeling how the naked touch felt so familiar, so right against his own. How it sent electric pulses through every blood vein in his body, from the tip of his fingers to the tip of his toes. Tsukishima opened his lips to protest but was cut short as Kuroo claimed the protest with his own lips. Clashed his lips to Tsukishima’s own in a heated moment of act before think. Tsukishima froze in his embrace, immobile to the touch. However, Kuroo kept placing gentle yet deep kisses that radiated untold passion on the other’s lips. Tasting that delicious taste of the younger’s mouth, how it made him feel drunk, reckless. How it made him feel like there was no outside world that existed, it was only them in this secluded bubble of sparkling energy. 

Kuroo secured his hand tighter around the other’s waist, running teasing circles at the hip. Seizing the lower lip of Tsukishima, biting gently at the flesh, running his tongue slowly over the sensitive bow of his lips, lulling the younger into the touch. Teasing him gently, luring him into the drunk existence of their common embrace.

Tsukishima took a sharp intake of breath in response to the touch, his mind fighting against his body to not give in. But Kuroo could feel it was a losing battle. Felt how the younger was losing the stiffness in his limbs as he kept kissing him. He let go of the younger’s mouth, peppering small kisses at the corner of his mouth, continuing to trail his lips down his cheek, following the shape of the younger’s jaw before resting at the side of his nape, sucking hungrily just below his ear. He retracted a bit, studying the close eyed blonde before him, studying how his breath was hitched, how that pale skin flushed so beautifully, how he could faintly spot those dark marks on his neck at such close proximity. Making his mind go dark. 

He delved back into the younger’s skin again, breathing deeply at the base of his ear.

“Come on Tsukki,” Kuroo breathed slowly in Tsukishima’s ear, air dancing over the sensitive skin.

Tsukishima gasped at the feeling, his body melting into the heated touch of Kuroo. Their bodies left to decide their interaction. Kuroo chuckled lightly, lips brushing over Tsukishima’s nape. The ghost of a touch made the younger shiver, his body pressing itself unwillingly closer to the touch. Taking that as a good sign, Kuroo kissed his way back up the younger’s neck, caressing the tip of his nose and lips gently over the other cheek before halting millimetres away from his lips. Pecking them gently before pulling away again, Kuroo muttered an order,

“Accept me,”

And the younger did. In a silent gasp, he opened his mouth for Kuroo to slip his tongue in the heat of Tsukishima’s sensitive spots. 

However, as their tongues connected in a heated kiss, everything came back. Everything that had happened that night. The sharing of secrets, the heated touches, the kisses, the desperate grinding of painful erections against each other, the feeling of Tsukishima’s pretty fingers around his hard dick, how Tsukishima’s own dick had felt in his own hand, the orgasms, the laughter. 

Kuroo had no idea how to take in, react to what he was remembering, but he was also not given the opportunity to try. Tsukishima quickly pushed him harshly away, his fingers digging painfully in his chest. Kuroo fell several steps away from the younger, his hand caressing his the sore spots on his chest, looking a bit overwhelmed at the younger. 

“You - You can’t just do that. You can’t just kiss me,” Tsukishima said through his heavy breathing, lips stained dark from the kiss. The look he gave him was a threat, clearly stating ‘don’t you dare come near me’. He then turned quickly around and opened the locker, pulled on his t-shirt, grabbed his training bag and ran out of the locker room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you make it through? haha
> 
> This shit is over 80.000 words now wtf. When I first started out, I was like 'Should I aim for like 40.000 words? I wanna make a slow burn shit, but I don't know if I can write that much. Ok, I can have a goal and it's probably only gonna be maximum 25.000.'.. god my newbie self underestimated how much I love slow burn, overly frustrating denial and just this ship in general.
> 
> I appreciate all comments, I love to hear what you guys thought about this messy ride. Especially if its as bad as I feel like it is and if I should just trash the whole thing and start anew.


	9. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided I should probably do no more promises since I can't keep them haha. Tbh i'm kinda overestimating my capacity. I have my master thesis due in just 3 weeks and I'm moving my whole life from Korea to the other side of the world right after. So things are messy now a days. Still going to try to not make you guys wait too long. I'm not going on a hiatus or anything, but I think it would be ridiculous of me to promise anything. 
> 
> ALSO I want to thank [PrincessOfHyrule](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessOfHyrule/pseuds/PrincessOfHyrule) for volunteering to be my beta for this chapter onward. She did an amazing job and was so much more thorough than I would ever expect her to. It really help with my confidence to have somebody tell me its not shait beforehand. I hope I followed her corrections correctly haha and that she will not read this and be like "Omg this is not what I meant stupid peasant," hehehe
> 
> AND YEAH, THIS CHAPTER IS ONLY TSUKISHIMA'S POV CUZ LIFE SO I'M SORRY FOR THAT

**Revelations**

**Tsukishima.**

_Flashback to the loss._

The tears stung behind the corner of his eyes, stung from suppressing them. Threatening to dribble down, only to be forced back by the sheer willpower that Tsukishima had built up over all these years. He did not want to cry in front of all of those people in the stands, in front of his teammates. Still not comfortable with the vulnerability it showcased. The loss stung, ripped through his chest as if it was made of glass. Shattered it and left deep, bleeding cuts within him. The flashback of his brother’s shaking figure on the floor, crying his heart out for the sport was throbbing at the back of his mind. Reminding him exactly why he had become the person he had become in high school in the first place. Making him question if this kind of pain was worth it in the end. If the crushing realization of a loss, the feeling of wanting to curl up into a ball and shut the world out was worth the reward of the game. 

The only light he could see at the end of the tunnel right now was that the pain dulled out everything else that was going on. The hurt that stemmed from other sources, questions, realizations and denials. 

The captain was speaking, but Tsukishima could not hear the words coming out of his mouth. It was like background noise, only buzzing through the thick fog of his brain. But his words were unimportant right now, nothing could be said that would make anything better, nothing would make sense. There was nothing he wanted to hear. He wanted a rematch, wanted to tell the referee that there must have been a mistake. 

But he knew it was not true, knew the other team had simply been better. However, accepting it was another matter completely. Lost in his own thoughts, the hall slowly emptied as the winner had been announced and medals had already been given out. 

Then before he realized it, he was alone. The crowds had left the stands to celebrate or console their friends and players. The players had left to either happily or reluctantly accept the outcome of the match. To wash up and leave. He was the last player that refused to cross that boundary between the hard synthetic surface of the volleyball court and the cork floor of the general common area. He knew if he crossed that threshold, the tears could not be withheld any more. He would break down, show the world his pathetic face. So he could only stand quietly with his fist clenched, biting his trembling lower lip to keep the stifled sobs inside. 

Tsukishima did not know how long he had been standing like that, like a defeated man, when the warmth of familiar arms made him look up in surprise. The only thing he could see as he looked up was a head of brown hair tinted by green. But he knew who it was, knew the only person that could wrap his arms around the emotional ice block that was Tsukishima despite how many times those arms had been rejected.

He never felt comfortable with people feeling sorry for him, consoling him, and it had almost become an entrenched reflex to reject any form of it. But right now, he couldn’t. Needed the warmth of something that always felt stable in his life.

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima said hoarsely, his voice only a ghost of his normal tone. He unconsciously let his chin rest gently on the top of Yamaguchi’s head as he could feel his restraints breaking and tears started to trickle softly down his cheeks. 

“I’m here,” Yamaguchi answered quietly. If he was surprised that Tsukishima not only accepted but subtly reciprocated the intimacy, he did not express it. Only opting to run his hand lightly down Tsukishima’s back, letting him know that he really was there. Always was there. 

They stood like that for a while. Tsukishima being held quietly in his friend’s embrace as the pain became more and more difficult to hold in. Threatened to explode with the force of an erupting volcano. He clenched at Yamaguchi’s shoulders, digging his fingers painfully down at the muscles underneath. Burying his face down in the dark hair as the tears transgressed from soft trickles to a violent flood, hulking in an ugly manner from the back of his tight throat. Yamaguchi carefully placed his other arm on the top of the taller’s blonde curls, shielding him from the pain in the stability of his arms as he patted the curls peaceably. 

“We lost,” Tsukishima mumbled brokenly from the safeguard of the other’s hair. Saying it out loud was so surreal yet made it impossible to deny. The loss became real, the fact that there would always be somebody that was better than you, that you could not escape pain once you devote your heart to anything. 

“But _now_ you know what to do next,” Yamaguchi said calmly. He tugged Tsukishima away from his embrace by the upper arms, holding the blond by an arm’s length distance from his body and looked strictly at him. “You never gonna give up,”

“Are you rickrolling me now?” Tsukishima tried saying in a mocking manner, but failed to do so. He felt exposed by the distance Yamaguchi held him at and by those piercing eyes. He broke the eye contact and pinned his gaze to the floor to hide his tearstained, red-puffy eyes. 

“That's not even the correct lyrics,” Yamaguchi said with a roll of his eyes, voice strained. The fact that he was tired of his best friend's walls was apparent all over his face. “Come on Tsukki, nobody likes to lose. But that is sadly a part of life. You cannot escape from disappointments all your life,” 

“It worked perfectly well until I came up with this stupid idea to let myself get invested in this god-damn club,” Tsukishima bit out, hulking uncharacteristically between the words. He clenched his fists tighter, hating the way he was unable to control himself. Hating the fact that he had let himself become so invested. 

“You don’t mean that. The look on your face when you are playing volleyball tells anybody who is watching you that it was not a stupid idea. It’s your element,“ Yamaguchi stated sternly, placing his hand at his hips to look disheartened at the broken image in front of him. 

“My element?” Tsukishima said almost hysterically, laughing emptily as he looked up at Yamaguchi with broken eyes. “It was my brother’s element as well, see what good it did him! I should have learned my lesson, should have stuck to my lesson,” he continued in the same semi-hysterical voice. 

“Yet your brother did not regret anything,” Yamaguchi pointed out.

“Well, I am not my brother,” Tsukishima pointed out sharply, failing miserably to steady his trembling breathing. Breathing that threatened to break into loud sobs again at any minute. 

“Then why do you use his experience to justify your own fears?” Yamaguchi asked, tilting his head to the side and looked at Tsukishima as he was genuinely curious. 

Silence followed that statement. Tsukishima did not know what to say, what to think. He knew what Yamaguchi said made sense, knew by now that his excuses were running thin. Yet it was hard to only see them as excuses when it hurt so badly. And maybe this was just the last straw from already having been a walking piece of inner turmoil and stress for the last week or so. Maybe he was simply overreacting to the outcome because of it. This was not his last time on the court, still had 3 and a half years to improve and to chase the title of champions. But it did not make anything better, it still hurt.

“Because it sucks so much to lose,” Tsukishima admitted on a particularly shaky intake of breath. 

Yamaguchi brought up his left sleeve to Tsukisima’s face and dried the wet patches of tears under his eyes. 

“Yes it does,” he said in agreement. 

“Then why,” Tsukishima asked, though it was not really a question. 

“Because the feeling of winning all the previous matches that took you to this point triumphs what you are feeling now. This, “ Yamaguchi said with a small smile, pointing his finger at Tsukishima’s heart as if to demonstrate “This feeling here will pass. The memory of the court, the rush of the game and the triumph of winning never will,”

Tsukishima followed the motion of Yamaguchi’s finger down his own chest. Looked at the muscle that was pounding with hurt, pumping both blood and defeat through his body. With a quiet sigh, he thought about Yamaguchi’s words. Thought about moments of successes, the feeling of the ball in his hands, how it fitted perfectly in his palm, the flowing synergy of his team, the game. They put the dark, broken pieces of himself into the shadow, warmth flowing ever so subtly through his torn veins. 

“When did you become this cool?” Tsukishima asked with a small smile, rubbing his face harshly with the palm of his hands, dragging the skin down with the motion of his palms. Forcing himself to get his shit together.

“Think it was at training camp in our first year of high school if I remember correctly,” Yamaguchi answered cheekily, giving the taller boy a brilliant smile.

“Tch,” Tsukishima simply answered, feeling slightly embarrassed by this whole situation. 

“There we have Tsukki back,” Yamaguchi laughed, giving a thumbs up in Tsukishima’s direction. “Go and shower and get changed, I'll meet you at home. Ok?” 

“Get home, dork,” Tsukishima said with a small smile, pushing the younger at the back to get him out of there. 

\------

Things had only progressed for the worst after Yamaguchi left. The crushing feeling of the loss, though somewhat subdued after their talk, had still burned painfully in his chest. Then Kuroo had showed up and further messed him up when he was already in a vulnerable state. Had to put himself back on his mind, remind him of everything that had happened, everything he had remembered, felt since _that_ day. The anger was at that moment bubbling dangerously under the surface, spilling out with every goddamn lie and attempt at an unwanted apology that Kuroo had served him, every excuse. It was infuriating. 

It was no secret how Kuroo had felt about everything that had happened. His facial expressions every time they touched, every time flashes of memories had come back to them, had burned an imprint at the back of Tsukishima’s mind. It hurt so bad Tsukishima lacked the vocabulary to describe it. The look of utter disgust as their skin touched, as Tsukishima remembered how his skin had been on fire, how undeniably good it felt, burned a hole in his chest. 

He had been confused, tried to deny what his mind was showing him. Deny the fact that Kuroo and he had shared those blurry heated touches, kissed each other in such an intimate way. Kuroo was a guy, but if Tsukishima was to go down that road, It could have been any guy. Why had it been Kuroo of all people? The guy that he could not stand the sight of only months prior, the guy that reminded him of every bad decision he had made in high school. Maybe it was not fair to put all the blame on the older, but he was the only one that had had the balls to confront him, to push his fears and insecurities right up in his face. 

He knew that he had stopped hating him a long time ago. Accepted him as a part of his life, however distant. But that did not mean that the natural progression of events was to have a drunken make-out session on his couch. Yet strangely, it made sense. Made some of the unanswered, unexplored questions that were constantly knocking at the back of his mind disappear. Made it impossible to deny that, no matter how he felt about it, that night had happened. At that moment, he could still not remember most of it, but he remembered enough to know that that night had been far from a straight bachelor night. 

It was like a weight had been lifted from his back only to be replaced with a new one - What the fuck was he going to do with this information? What would happen to Kuroo and him? What did he think about Kuroo?

Firstly, the logical part of his brain found it hard to ignore the fact that he was attracted to the older no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much he had stared at the mirror and asked himself why Kuroo, why now. Because he could not ignore the hidden questions, the denied questions that had knocked at the back of his mind for so long any longer. The situation was too apparent, too real to ignore any longer. He was actually acknowledging their existence, which made his million excuses seem too far fetched even to himself. 

Secondly, the logical conclusion following that realization had to be that he was attracted to guys - an idea that had felt completely foreign to him only days ago. Though, Tsukishima had to be buried head deep in denial not to recognize the attraction to a guy when he had gotten x number of boners by the thought of a guy’s lips on his skin in a matter of days. But being gay, thinking about himself as gay sounded so weird to him, something he would not even in a million years had imagined himself thinking. He had never been much of a sexually driven person, never been in love, so he had never seen a reason to actually explore his sexuality. Explore the thought of being something else than straight. He could be bisexual? Could it be only Kuroo? … somehow Tsukishima would rather be gay than for Kuroo to be his exception. Especially seeing as Tsukishima was not his exception. It was only a drunken mistake, a terrible drunken mistake. 

Yet Kuroo was always on his mind, his eyes always following the older, and he had come to realize that he had been doing that for way longer than how long this mess had been going on for. In his quiet moments of reflecting around these new questions, he was reminded of the silence between them after the double date, about how his eyes were always subconsciously searching for him, how he was begging silently for Kuroo to speak to him. Remembered the small smiles he gave to his phone as he texted rude shit to him, how Kuroo’s challenging gaze on the court gave him chills, how being called cute by Kuroo made his heart plummet and his face burst out in a dark blush. Making him question if his little attraction had lasted longer than he realized.

God, this is so messed up and complicated, Tsukishima had thought to himself a million times as these questions and memories had kept occupying his mind. 

Then it all took a turn for the worse when Kuroo had actually pushed him away. Pushed him away and called him disgusting. Effectively confirming what he already knew. Yet it hurt a million times more hearing it out loud. 

It was not like he had wanted the older to become his boyfriend. Nor had he wanted to reenact that night again. Just because he maybe possibly was a little bit attracted to Kuroo, it did not mean he had to act on that attraction. Especially not when Kuroo was acting like a total douchebag about it. People were attracted to other people all the time, and more often than not, that attraction was not acted upon. Yet it still hurt. It still hurt that somebody called him disgusting. It still hurt that Kuroo could not accept that it had been a mistake and move on. It hurt that this probably meant the end for everything they had built up. 

He did not want to go back to their post double date relationship. To not speak, to have this unspoken tension. On the other hand, he was too hurt, angry and prideful to act as if nothing had happened between them. To brush white paint over everything and continue as friends-ish. That was what he initially wanted when he had realized something more had happened that night, to move on and forget. But Kuroo had to come and ruined everything like he always did. He had felt like a shell of his former self, constantly in his own mind when he had not been on the court. Slowly distancing himself from everything and everyone. 

Tsukishima may have accepted the apology if Kuroo had cornered him in any other circumstances. May have agreed to move on like he initially had wanted to if his heart was not already aching from their loss. But maybe he would not. Hearing Kuroo speak to him, pretending, lying made his mind burst in anger. All the hurt he had felt could not suddenly be brushed over by a weak ass apology from somebody that could not even touch him without looking ready to throw up. Kuroo was a complete ass, and Tsukishima had just let himself forget that for a short moment. After High School, Kuroo had become the type of guy that used people for his own benefit and Tsukishima refused to allow himself to be a part of Kuroo’s little play. Thus he shut his ears from Kuroo’s words, shouting back for the older to leave him alone.

But then Kuroo had kissed him. Kuroo had kissed him and his body had melted into his touch without the consent of his mind. Those hands on his naked skin, those hungry kisses fed his body like he was starving for them. It was electricity so undeniably evident, so strong it could probably light up a whole city. His dick was taking the steering wheel, his instincts were controlling his brain, feeding the logical part of his mind with more undeniable evidence of his attraction to the older. 

However, at the moment his body had given in completely, opened his mouth to meet the soft, heated tongue of Kuroo, everything had come back. And it was not the fact that they had actually given each other handjobs, the shock of that realization, that made him stop. That led the rational part of his brain to take back the steering wheel. He had already accepted that they had been intimate, and his body was too weak to Kuroo’s touch. However, it was the words, the sounds that made him halt. The sounds of his own embarrassing un-filtered moans that essentially begged for Kuroo to touch him more. The words, the secret, the compliments that Kuroo had shared with him. They all had to be lies. 

What Kuroo had said that night was so contradictory to the disgust on his face afterwards. Had Kuroo used seductive words filled with lies to gain a quick fuck in his drunken state? How many others had he whispered pretty words to make them his for one night? Had he indeed become one of the people Kuroo used for his own benefit?

It made him push the other harshly away from him, made him run away.

\----------- 

The cafeteria was bustling with people as usual, people standing in long, unstructured queues by the various food and drinks sections offered by the school or sat tightly squeezed together around the tables positioned closely together in the open area. Again, the speakers were playing the newest pop hits a bit too loudly in the background, forcing people to talk a bit louder than what was comfortable to be heard over the overall noise picture of the room. But for once, Tsukishima felt like it was a good escape from everything else. 

The volleyball practices following their last match had been so awkward. The two middle blockers had been and still was unable to put their problems aside as they had during the official matches, making them fidget uncoordinated at the court. Both the coach and the captain had yelled at them on several occasions to get their shit together. However, that was easier said than done. 

They had kissed, completely sober. Clung onto each other’s exposed skin in a desperate need to get closer, to feel the warmth of each other. And Tsukishima had pushed him away, too afraid of what his fully regained memories meant for them, hurt by the lies.

Kuroo had been looking at him with unreadable expressions. At times, it had seemed like he wanted to say something to Tsukishima. Biting his lips, looking for words. Eyes pleading for Tsukishima to give him another chance to make things right. At other times, he had seemed so conflicted with himself, almost uncomfortable in his own skin.

During those moments, Kuroo had refused to acknowledge his existence. Acting like he was the only blocker on the court. But at those times, it was also when Tsukishima could spot the way Kuroo was looking at himself in the mirror in the locker room. How twisted his facial expressions always got. He had looked as if he was in pain, tugging at his skin like it did not fit. It was hidden, carefully concealed movements. But Tsukishima’s eyes were always following the older. And Kuroo could not hide from him. 

After all, he had accepted the fact that he was attracted to him. Accepted that reason did not apply here. Despite how much of an asshole he was, how much he knew he should stop, he had accepted that his body was not listening to reason anymore. 

So it felt refreshing to step into an environment where the noise could drown everything out. Where his friends could distract him with their small talk, allowing for a moment where his shoulders could relax and the clump in his throat could disappear. 

“So I have been thinking about where Yammi and I should go and celebrate our anniversary this weekend,” Yachi said as she tucked her shoulder-length hair behind her ear, looking as bright and excited as always. It was hard to overthink difficult matters when she was radiating so much positive energy. She looked at Tsukishima expectantly, cocking her head. “What do you think, Tsukishima?” 

Tsukishima looked at her with a deadpan expression.

“You are seriously asking _me_?” he said with a snort and continued to sip from the strawberry milk carton in his hand. The thought of somebody asking him for romantic advice seemed ridiculous in his mind 

“Well, you know Yammi the best of everybody,” she said with a shrug and pinned his gaze with her eager ones.

“Tch, can you not call him that in front of me. I just threw up in my mouth a bit,” Tsukishima responded, imitating a gagging noise. The words may have seemed harsh, but the amusement behind his words could easily be detected by anyone that knew him. 

“Not a chance,” she giggled and grabbed Tsukishima’s available hand that was resting on the table and pulled at it playfully. “Come ooon, I need some help. _Yammi_ made last year's anniversary so special and I wanna do the same for him this year,” she continued as she put an emphasis on Yamaguchi’s nickname and shook his hand impatiently. 

“You two are so disgustingly perfect for each other,” Tsukishima said as he wrinkled his nose and made a half-hearted attempt at pulling his hand back.

“Oh Tsukishima, that's the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she squealed in excitement, her face lit up like the midnight sky on a starry night at his words. Tsukishima felt like he had to shield his eyes from the brightness of it all. She let his hand go and stood up from the table. Walking around to the opposite side where Tsukishima was sitting, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight, excited hug. Making Tsukishima freeze a bit from surprise and the uncomfortable closeness of the girl. 

“Just go to one of those outside cinema places and watch the most sickly romantic movie ever. Bring a picnic basket and a blanket to sit on, it’s not that complicated,” Tsukishima grumbled as he tried to wiggle himself carefully out of her embrace without hurting the girl’s feelings. 

“Wow, what a brilliant idea! Why don’t you have a girlfriend again?” she laughed brightly while sounding so earnest. Sometimes she was just too dense to be so smart. Most people did not have to know Tsukishima for very long to understand why personal relations, whether romantic or friendly, usually did not work out too well for the blonde. And now that he was kind of in a sexuality crisis: Trying to find out whether he was gay, bi or just gay for Kuroo, the whole notion of a girlfriend felt very foreign. 

“Hey Tsukki, are you trying to steal my girlfriend? You two are making me jealous,” Yamaguchi said with a laugh as he approached the table with his tray. He put the tray down on the table next to the now empty chair of Yachi and sat down. “Though I’m happy to see my best friend and my girlfriend being so close,” 

“Tsukishima was being so cute, I could not help myself,” Yachi said in her most bubbly voice, and hugged Tsukishima one last time before she detached herself from the blonde and sat back down on her seat next to Yamaguchi. Tsukishima made a protesting sound in response to both her words and her last hug, stabbing his rice while mumbling something incoherent under his breath. 

“Oh really?” Yamaguchi said with a humorous look on his face, looking amusedly in Tsukishima’s direction. “Why don’t you act cute in front of me as well?” he sniggered.

“Shut up Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima grumbled, trying to fight against an unwelcome blush. “What took you so long anyway?” 

“The Korean kitchen was so busy today,” Yamagcuhi complained with a tired moan and picked up his chopsticks to dig into the bibimbap in front of him. “What did you guys talk about anyway?” he asked after swallowing the first bite of food.

“Nothin-”

“I was wondering why Tsukishima is single,” she giggled, “After all, the rare display of cuteness from a tsundere is so precious.”

“What did you just call me?” Tsukishima asked in a displeased manner, staring daggers at the girl.

“You remember that it's been just over two weeks since Yui broke up with him?” Yamaguchi asked his girlfriend a bit strictly, sending an apologizing look towards Tsukishima. Tsukishima simply glowered back. 

The statement seemed to extinguish the brightness of the small girl, her expression turned into a horrified one. 

“Oh I’m sorry Tsukishima, I did not think,” she mumbled as she lowered her gaze down towards her food. She picked up her fork and started to pick awkwardly at the plate. “Y-you have just seemed a bit off lately and I was happy to see you in this mood today. I should have known that that was probably because of the breakup though,” she mumbled as her voice trailed off at the end. 

“Tch, don’t worry about it,” Tsukishima answered back and flickered his eyes away from the pair as he sucked at the straw of the now empty strawberry milk. 

His mind began to wander. Had he really acted that different lately? His world had basically been turned upside down, but he didn’t realize that he had been acting so differently because of it. He thought he had been good at concealing it, Yamaguchi had not commented on his behaviour after all. But if he thought about it, Yamaguchi had been sending him some weird stares lately. Was he waiting for Tsukishima to say anything?

But how could Tsukishima say anything? 

He was a walking question mark at this point. He had realized and accepted a lot of new stuff about himself during these past two weeks, but there were still so many questions remaining. How could he share what happened between Kuroo and him? How could he share the fact that his mind was constantly occupied by those sweet words Kuroo had muttered to him that night. How his cheeks burned from the memory of his touches and the whisper of Kuroo’s voice in his ears as he called him sexy. How his heart burned by the thought of him making Kuroo hard, the first person to do so in two years. Tsukishima was so sure that those words were lies, but a part of him really wanted to believe them. Wanted them to be true. Why could he not just get over his attraction to Kuroo? After all, this attraction did not do anyone any good. And it was not like he actually liked him. Right? 

“How do you know if you like him?” Tsukishima asked absentmindedly, asking himself out loud. He had had actually no intention of asking this question out loud. Had no idea where this very un-Tsukishima Ish question came from.

“M-me?” Yachi asked in a very surprised voice, sounding as she was cut off from another conversation with Yamaguchi. She looked at the blonde with almost disbelief in her eyes. Yamaguchi’s expression also mimicked the girl’s shocked expression. His eyes widened in shock when he realized his blunder, and he covered his heated cheeks behind the empty strawberry milk box. Feeling like he could melt into the floor in shame.

“U-uh..Never mind,” Tsukishima mumbled. A part of him was relieved that she interpreted his words in that way. Another part of him still hated himself for asking, his pride simmering uncomfortably. He did not feel comfortable with anyone thinking he asked them such a sincere and personal question. Tsukishima knew that was silly, knew his pride was way too vulnerable. But he had yet to learn how to change that part of him. 

“No, don’t worry about it,” she said hurriedly, waving her hand in front of herself to signal that it was not a really big deal. “You are curious about how I knew I liked Yammi, right? How do I know that I still like him? That’s what you meant right, or?” she asked while cocking her head.

Yamaguchi looked at Tsukishima with what he could only describe as something analyzing.

“Uhm, yes, “ Tsukishima simply said, feeling dumb. He did not need them to further analyze what he was actually asking himself, so this conclusion was the lesser of two evils. 

“Well,” she started, tugging at her thumbs and blushed slightly as she looked up at her boyfriend. “I don’t know what triggered it. But...suddenly I found myself thinking about him all the time. My eyes were always following him, especially when I was managing the volleyball activities. And…” she continued as her blush grew darker, the embarrassment clear as day on her face. “When he hugged me when we won a match, or he just brushed past me, my heart beat ridiculously fast and the places he touched seemed to burn. And it still does,” she said as she ended her explanation. She was now as red as a tomato and all squeamish. Looking like she regretted being that honest. 

“Baby,” Yamaguchi cooed softly and kissed the side of her head affectionately, a smile lingering on his lips. His eyes radiated with love for the tiny girl, and Tsukishima was watching this display of affection with a tight knot in his stomach. “I was done for the moment you walked in that gym.”

Tsukishima regretted his question now more than ever. Her words sounded too close to home, too familiar….They sounded like him. But there was no way in hell he was in love with Kuroo.

Wait, why I’m I even talking about love? I don’t even LIKE him like that, Tsukishima thought desperately for himself, shaking his head harshly back and forth. Trying to force the thoughts out of his head. 

“Hey Hey Hey, who do I spot here,” the voice of Bokuto boomed from behind him, breaking his train of thoughts. He could feel the heavy hands of the older rest on his shoulders, initiating body contact as he usually did when meeting the blonde.

“Oh, Bokuto-san, Akaashi-san, Kuroo-san,” Yamaguchi said in surprise and stopped his overly affectionate cuddling of his tomato-red girlfriend.

“You always sound so surprised when you see us,” Akaashi pointed out. 

“Heh, sorry about that,” Yamaguchi said sheepishly and scratched at the back of his head with an embarrassed smile. “What are you guys doing here anyway? Lunch is almost over,”

“Bokuto-san here wanted a coffee before class,” Akaashi answered simply, resting his weight on the now empty table next to them.

“You drink coffee, Bokuto-san?” Tsukishima sniggered with a raised brow, trying hard to put his mind on something else. Trying not to let his gaze wander to the person his body wanted so badly to look at. Forcing himself to let the logical part of his brain decide his actions. And the logical part of him knew that he needed to get over whatever this thing with Kuroo was. Because the thoughts he was having were becoming more and more dangerous, revealing more and more of what he was actually feeling. 

“If you count vanilla latte as coffee,” Akaashi snorted. 

“Hey, it has coffee in it. That makes me a coffee drinker,” Bokuto protested with a whine.

“Yeah sure, convince yourself of that, bro!” Kuroo barked out with his classic hyena laugh that echoed throughout the room. 

“You are not one to talk Kuroo-san. You order frappuccino, “ Akaashi commented dryly.

“Hey, I actually drink proper coffee quite often. Frappuccino is just a nice change-up sometimes,” Kuroo said in astonishment. 

“You can’t hide the smell of lies behind that carwash of a shower gel you use,” Tsukishima sniggered back. It was like his instincts were acting before he could think. And that only moments after he swore to use the logical part of his brain when dealing with Kuroo. But it seemed like he was programmed to use every opportunity given to him to give Kuroo snark. Unable to resist the temptation, no matter how angry or hurt he was. 

And now he was looking at Kuroo, looking at the clearly uncomfortable look on his face. His stomach plummeted again. It hurt. Kuroo was so clearly uncomfortable with him and Tsukishima hated himself for how much that hurt him. How much his body ached for the older to stop looking at him like that. For him to look at him with those burning, dark eyes of passion instead. 

Why the hell had he kissed him that day in the locker room when he could barely stand the sight of him? 

”Bwhahaha, good one Tsukki,” Bokuto exclaimed in response, squeezing Tsukishima’s shoulders. 

Akaashi sighed, shaking his head lightly.

“We need to go. You have class on the other side of campus Bokuto-san,” Akaashi commented as he pushed himself off from the table. “We just came over to say hi,” 

“Oh ok, see you around then,” Yamaguchi said with a smile and waved goodbye.

Bokuto let go of his grip on Tsukishima’s shoulders and ruffled his hair before he joined the two others with a bright goodbye. 

I should really cut my hair, Tsukishima thought as he remembered how Kuroo had threaded his fingers in his hair. How different that touch felt to Bokuto’s. 

\------ 

After yet another rather awkward practice, Tsukishima was lying stretched out on the couch with his fingers intertwined at his stomach and his eyes were closed. The look on Kuroo’s face from earlier that week, how he kept looking at him, was still imprinted on his mind, on the back of his eyelids. It made his heart clench uncomfortably at his chest. He wanted so badly to forget about it, to move on from the ridiculousness of it all. But he could not. Could not stop himself from wanting to kiss that expression away. Kiss him until he showed him that burning, dark expression that made him lose his breath. The one Kuroo made those two previous times they had exchanged heated touches. 

“I’m I going crazy? Why can’t I just forget about it and move on?” Tsukishima shouted out to himself, flailing his limbs like an overgrown child. 

“Huh?” Yamaguchi answered in a surprised manner.

Tsukishima opened his eyes in panic, staring in utter disbelief at his best friend. He was supposed to be alone today. He was supposed to have the place for himself. When had Yamaguchi come home?

He did not know how to react. He had just shouted ridiculous things into thin air, acting like a child in what he thought was his own alone time. But he was not alone. He had revealed his inner thoughts to Yamaguchi and his pride protested with everything it got. Squeezing at his chest uncomfortably. He had no idea what Yamaguchi was thinking about his outburst, what he thought Tsukishima’s words meant, and he hated it. Hated how he had let himself be vulnerable, for just to be exposed at that moment. It didn’t matter that it was Yamaguchi. This was not something he wanted to share with anybody. 

“W-when did you get home?” Tsukishima stuttered as his eyes took in the dumbfounded expression on his friend’s face.

“J-just now. I called out to you but you did not answer,” Yamaguchi answered, his voice weird and his expression unreadable beyond the surprise. 

Again, Tsukishima did not know what to answer. Had he been so in his head that he had not heard Yamaguchi talk to him? He felt overwhelmed with shame. Ready to die on the spot in order to not deal with a conversation about his feelings. He untwined his fingers from his stomach and quickly hid his face behind them. Praying to whatever holy entity out there to rescue him.

He could feel the spot on the sofa next to his knees dip, and he knew Yamaguchi had sat down. 

Please don’t, Tsukishima pleaded to himself. 

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi started carefully. 

“Don’t Yamaguchi, just don’t” Tsukishima said shakily, failing to sound like his normally rude self. 

“I can’t Tsukki, this ends now,” he said with finality. Tsukishima rarely heard his friend sound that serious, it sounded so foreign in his ears. Made everything worse.

“Please don’t,” Tsukishima pleaded almost as a whisper. He felt so vulnerable at that moment, he did not know what to do, how to act. He tried to get himself together, to act like normal but he just couldn't. He was trembling in fear, humiliation - and he had not even revealed anything yet. Just the thought of being exposed shook him to the core of his very being. 

“I can’t, not anymore,” Yamaguchi said tightly, his breathing heavy. “I can’t continue to watch you digging a hole in your own mind anymore,”

Tsukishima did not answer, which seemed to ignite a wave of burning anger in Yamaguchi. 

“I’ve refrained from asking because I really thought you would come to me when things got bad enough. But I’ve watched you becoming a shell of your own self when you think nobody is looking. I’m not stupid, Tsukishima,” Yamaguchi growled, his anger only so apparent in his voice. The use of his full name made something drop in his stomach. And Tsukishima could tell that the younger was trying to hold himself back, trying to not explode. Yamaguchi was more serious than Tsukishima ever remembered seeing him. 

“Have I just been a fool for thinking you thought of me as somebody you could trust? I’m I just that stupid kid that shares all his secrets with whom he believes to be his best friend?” Yamaguchi asked, his voice filled with hurt and repressed anger. 

“Yamaguchi…” Tsukishima started, still lost for words. Lately, it seemed like heated conversations filled with anger and hurt was becoming the standard. Why was everything so fucked up? He felt so tired.

“Look at me,” Yamaguchi growled and forced Tsukishima’s hands away from his face. Forcing Tsukishima to look astonished at him. “Look at me and tell me I’m wrong. Look at me and tell me I have not been that idiot,”

This was really a new Yamaguchi and Tsukishima had no idea how to take this unexpected side of him in. But one thing he knew, he did not like it one bit. Did not like the hurt on his friend’s face, did not like that he was responsible for it, did not like that Yamaguchi was doubting their friendship. Yamaguchi was the only stable thing in his life, the one thing that made Tokyo feel like home. He was his family, his brother. 

“Y-you are not,” Tsukishima forced out through his dumbfoundedness, staring blankly at his friend. 

“Then why won’t you talk to me? It hurts so much to see you like this,” Yamaguchi asked almost pleadingly, tears starting to form in his eyes and the anger had popped like a balloon. There was only hurt left. 

The last thing he wanted was to hurt Yamaguchi, to make Yamaguchi feel like he did not see him as a friend. But this was such a difficult topic to open up about. 

“Dammit Tsukishima,” Yamaguchi swore as he clenched his fist tightly next to Tsukishima’s knees. He sat still for a couple of seconds before he moved a bit further away from Tsukishima on the couch. “You know what, I think I am going to stay at Yachi’s for a while. I can’t continue to watch you dig yourself further down whatever hole your mind is creating,”

“I’m really fine,” Tsukishima insisted, his throat dry and uncomfortable. He could not believe what he was hearing, could not believe he had not been able to hide his distress better. He didn’t want Yamaguchi to leave. It felt so final. Like Yamaguchi was ending their friendship.

Yamaguchi scoffed. “Stop treating me like an idiot,”

“I’m really not....just,” Tsukishima started, but ended his sentence short. He was confused, stressed, felt vulnerable, everything. Yamaguchi had no right to demand answers from him. Yet, some part of him also felt like he was right. That this relationship had been a very one-sided thing when it came to actually entrust each other with things, sharing. Never entrusting him with anything personal, while Yamaguchi laid all his trust on him. 

“I’m tired of the lies,” Yamaguchi said shortly, biting his lips. His facial expression looked so hurt. “I don’t know how many times you've been lost in your own thoughts during these last few months. How many times you've asked me not to ask. Said that there is nothing wrong when there clearly is. How many times have you avoided conversations? How many times have I seen your hurt expression when you think nobody is looking? And recently, this has just gotten worse. How can I call myself a friend if I just keep continuing to say nothing? I’ve tried the gentle approach so many times now that I can’t even count. Sorry, but I think I need some time to accept where I stand in this relationship,” 

It was not like Tsukishima did not understand where Yamaguchi was coming from. He knew he shut himself off whenever anything happened, whenever there was even the mildest disturbance in his emotions. However, he felt like Yamaguchi was being unfair as well. 

It was not like Yamaguchi had no idea what was going on. He at least had an inkling. All the dropped hints about Kuroo, all the teasing, the questions. There was no way they were just random sentences dropped without further meaning. Yet, Yamaguchi pretended he was this enigma that nobody understood. Yamaguchi was being unfair. If he had an inkling about what was going on, why could he not understand why this was difficult to talk about? Why could he not just confront him about it instead of pretending to be in the dark?

“You are being unfair,” Tsukishima lashed out through tight lips. His body rigorously fighting against the scene that was unfolding itself between them. 

“Me being unfair? How am I the one that is being unfair?” Yamaguchi asked incredulously, his eyes wide in surprise from Tsukishima’s statement. “This is me having enough!”

“You keep guilt-tripping me into telling you what’s going on when you already know. At least be a man and say it outright,” Tsukishima barked out. He should not have been so harsh, let his words hold such biting poison, but his walls were too thick to break through with logic. He reacted on instinct alone, egged on by thick walls, fear and hot-headedness. 

“I’m not trying to guilt-trip you. Who is being unfair now?” Yamaguchi rebutted back with a raised voice, frustration laced with every word. “And how the hell I’m I supposed to know what is happening when you won’t fucking talk to me?”

“Oh really?” Tsukishima asked with a cold laugh. He hated himself for hurting his friend, but right now there was only one way forward - straight ahead. “So you have not gone around dropping subtle hints all semester? Acting like a little know-it-all, laughing at my misery,”

“Laughing at your misery? Are you going insane? And which hints are you even talking about?” Yamaguchi seemed close to crying from the tenseness of the situation. They had never fought like this. Never been the cause of hurt for the other. This was new territory for their friendship, and Tsukishima hated every second of it. So why could he not stop himself?

“Then what about the all the shit you spewed? Like, 

_“Ok, but you know you can't run from me forever. Nor your feelings”,_ After I first met Kuroo again

Or what about that time when you said, 

_“the look on your face is something I’ve only seen you with twice. The first time, when you came home from Coffee Bean two weeks ago after meeting Kuroo. The second time, last week when you found out that Kuroo was our neighbour. So yeah, this seems to be a weekly Kuroo thing for you,”_

How about when you said, _“So you are admitting to being heartbroken because of Kuroo?”_ or that one time or when you kept hinting to this “thing” that was bothering me like you knew what it was. 

Then there was that time when you left me alone with Kuroo and said you were not sorry for leaving us alone. Then what the fuck was all that, if not hints?” Tsukishima practically shouted back at Yamaguchi, too clouded by everything to actually realize what his words meant. 

This made Yamaguchi freeze in his motions, staring at Tsukishima with wide eyes. These revelations seemed like a complete surprise to the younger. And suddenly Tsukishima halted to re-evaluate his conviction that Yamaguchi at least knew something. Maybe he did not? Maybe he had just made a huge mistake. But then why had he said all those things?

“K-Kuroo?” Yamaguchi asked dumbfounded. 

“Never mind,” Tsukishima mumbled as he shifted his gaze away from the younger. The overwhelming flight instinct won over and he scrambled off the couch to get away.

“We are not done yet,” Yamaguchi said strictly as he grabbed Tsukishima’s right wrist. Holding him firmly in place. He paused for a while, holding onto Tsukishima without looking at him. The silence before Yamaguchi spoke again was deafening. “What are you so afraid of?”

Once again there was a silence. For what felt like the millionth time, Tsukishima did not know what to say. He felt defeated, afraid to lose his best friend, afraid of his feelings. Afraid that, if he admitted the truth, Yamaguchi would hate him, find him disgusting. Afraid of losing Yamaguchi by not telling him. Afraid of hurting him, his family, with his walls and his inability to open up. Afraid that saying things out loud would make things too real like if somebody else knew his attraction to Kuroo besides himself, his feelings would be set in stone.  


What was the right path to take right now? His defenses told him to let Yamaguchi go and risk losing their friendship by not telling him. His logic told him that he owed Yamaguchi the truth, owed him to fight for their friendship. 

“Of losing you,” Tsukishima admitted quietly with his gaze pinned to the floor, his voice sounding so vulnerable.

“Tsukki...The only way you are losing me is if you keep shutting me out,” Yamaguchi said with a gentle voice layered with surprise. This was one of the few moments in their relationship that Tsukishima showed his vulnerable side, admitting his fears beyond volleyball. And despite the fact that Yamaguchi had demanded the truth, he still seemed surprised to actually get it. Which constituted another realization of how bad of a friend he had been. The feeling of realization felt like another punch to the gut.

“How can you know that for sure?” Tsukishima asked quietly, still not looking at his best friend.

“I just know,” Yamaguchi said with such a reassuring voice that it was hard not to believe him. Hard to believe that his words were not sincere. It made him finally look up, meeting the determined, yet warm gaze of Yamaguchi. And he nodded slightly.

“I’m gonna get the ice cream from the freezer and we are going to sit down, and you are going to tell me everything that is going on. Ok?” Yamaguchi smiled encouragingly as he pulled kindly at Tsukishima’s arm. 

Tsukishima felt his resolve crumble before his friend and again he only nodded. Not trusting his voice at that moment. 

While Yamaguchi stood up and fetched the ice cream, Tsukishima had sat himself back on the couch a bit dumbfounded. Asking himself what the hell he had just gotten himself into. Asking himself whether he was ready or not. Clearly, he wasn’t? But this was happening, had to happen. Some things were more important than his pride. 

“So, Kuroo?” Yamaguchi asked as he sat himself next to Tsukishima on the couch and handed him a pint of strawberry flavoured ice cream. The sight of the pint in front of him felt nostalgic, bringing him back to the time where Kuroo had first called him cute. Reminded him of how horrifyingly embarrassing that was, of his dark blush that was impossible to suppress.

I have really become bad at hiding myself since meeting Kuroo again huh, Tsukishima thought for himself.

“Uhm, yeah,” Tsukishima admitted lamely and took a spoonful of the goodness in front of him in his mouth. 

“Does your experience in high school still bother you so much? I kinda quickly understood that your problem with him rooted back to everything that happened in high school.....but I had no idea it affected you so much, to this extent. I’m sorry for teasing you about it, I thought it was a way to….I dunno, make it seem not that important? I would never have done it if I knew how much you still held onto those regrets, ” Yamaguchi answered thoughtfully as he ate from his own pistachio flavoured ice cream, regret clearly evident in his voice. 

“Are you kidding me now?” Tsukishima asked incredulously, looking dumbfounded at the younger. Had all those comments just been Yamaguchi teasing him to make light of his high school situation? Had he completely misunderstood Yamaguchi’s intention? 

Yamaguchi had just offered an easy way out of the situation. He could just say yes, say that that was it. High School regrets had been bothering him. But he couldn’t make himself lie any longer. His guilt churned painfully in his stomach. He was and had always been a shitty friend. A friend full of lies that masked his own feelings while he always expected Yamaguchi to be honest and truthful with him. If Yamaguchi ever were to find the truth out for himself, would he ever forgive him? No, that was not what was important. The important thing was that Yamaguchi deserved to hear it from him.

“Eh? I’m I wrong?” Yamaguchi asked wide-eyed as he missed his mouth with his spoon, smearing ice cream on his cheek. 

“Well…” Tsukishima started, struggling to find out how to enter the very much awkward topic. “Not completely, it was like that in the start,” 

“But now?” Yamaguchi asked tentatively. Leaving his ice cream on the small table to tuck his arms around his bent knees. 

“Uhm..” Tsukishima mumbled, scratching nervously at the back of his head. “After you left that night we drank together….we kinda..we...you know,” Tsukishima awkwardly explained as he made completely incomprehensible hand gestures in the air to try to make the other understand. However, Yamaguchi only cocked his head to the side, looking confused. 

“Come on, work with me here Yamaguchi!”

“Sorry Tsukki, I don’t know what-” Yamaguchi started as he made the same awkward hand gestures in the air “this means.”

“.....kissed and some other stuff,” Tsukishima pressed out quietly after a second and his cheeks blushed magnificently pink. 

Whatever Yamaguchi had expected Tsukishima to say, that was not it. That much was apparent all over his face. He opened his mouth, trying to say something with a stunned expression. It seemed however that Yamaguchi was rendered speechless for a moment. 

And Tsukishima let the silent moment drag on before continuing. 

“And he seems completely disgusted by the situation and I do not know how to feel about it….What I feel about him,” Tsukishima shamefully admitted, feeling like he could die from embarrassment at the spot. Opening himself up like this was so completely foreign to him. So not him. Yet, saying it out loud kinda felt a tiny bit relieving as well. 

Yamaguchi wrinkled his nose at Tsukishima’s last words. He seemed to have gotten his words back as he asked carefully,

“Tsukki, are you gay?”

Tsukishima shrugged, and pinned his gaze down at the ice cream in his hands and started to churn it slowly with his spoon. More to have something to do than anything else. 

“I- I don’t know, maybe?” 

Yamaguchi sighed. And Tsukishima did not dare to look up. 

“Maybe?”

“This… attraction and feeling stuff is all new to me. I don’t know how to label it nor what it means. But for all intents and purposes, I guess I am?” Tsukishima explained to the best of his abilities, peeking carefully at the unreadable expression on his friend’s face.

“So you like Kuroo...as in.. like-like?” Yamaguchi asked. It was still so hard to read what he was thinking behind his expression that now had changed into cool neutrality.

“NO!” Tsukishima protested loudly as a reflex response. However, like every time he tried to separate his attraction to Kuroo from his feelings towards the guy, something felt wrong.

And this was the time for confessions after all. “Ehm I mean, Maybe? I guess? It’s one of the things I'm trying to really figure out. Kuroo clearly doesn't see me in that light and I honestly just want to get over my attraction and whatever feelings I have towards him. That’s yeah.... kinda why I’ve been out of it,” Tsukishima blurted out in one long monologue without breathing, only to quickly shut off his air supply in a tense moment of admission. “So there, now you know,” he added as he slowly breathed out again. 

“I’m not going to pretend that this information did not surprise me, “ Yamaguchi answered slowly, his words seemed careful. “Also, I - I’m not going to lie, I do not exactly look at homosexuality in the most favourable light,”

Tsukishima gulped loudly and tried to prepare himself for what was to come, the rejection.

“But I guess I have to re-evaluate my thinking now. Can it be that bad if my best friend is one?” Yamaguchi continued. 

Tsukishima did not know how to interpret this answer. It should not be completely surprising that Yamaguchi was homophobic, this was Japan after all. And that had been something he had tried to prepare himself for. Yet it still stung. But on the other hand, his answer held hope. 

So what did this mean for them? 

“So...are we ok?” Tsukishima asked with uncertainty. Ready to go to the landlord and terminate the contract if this meant that Yamaguchi could not live with him anymore despite his willingness to reflect on his position. 

“We are ok,” Yamaguchi said calmly. Tsukishima looked up to meet his best friend’s gaze, a gaze that held no disgust or uncomfortableness, just traces of uncertainty.”I just need some time to get used to the thought, but I already told you that you can’t lose me,”

“Will you sleep at Yachi’s today?”

“Nah, I think I’ll stay. Wanna watch TV?” Yamaguchi asked with a cheeky smile. 

It was like Tsukishima could finally breathe. It felt like he had been holding his breath, waiting for everything to crumble down as he told the truth. It was maybe no fairy tale ending, but it was really the best he could have hoped for. 

Yamaguchi turned on the television and shifted his concentration from Tsukishima to the screen. They were sitting maybe a bit farther apart than they usually did, but this whole thing was a process. Watching mindless TV, eating dinner, performing their daily tasks, it all would eventually make them go back to how it had been. They just needed time.

“So are you going to do something about your situation with Kuroo or…?” Yamaguchi asked hesitantly, eyes still fixed on the television screen. He seemed slightly uncomfortable with the question, like he was forcing himself to ask. However, he was trying and that was good enough for Tsukishima.

“I guess I have to when the situation presents itself,” Tsukishima answered with a sigh. It felt so foreign to be so open. Yet he could not really get himself to hate it now that it was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PrincessOfHyrule said I should probably mention that bibimbap is a Korean dish that consist of mixed rice with meat and assorted vegetables :) If ya guys ever come to Korea, or Seoul more specifically, I can let you know of the best places to eat that!! 
> 
> Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter even though it was only Tsukishima.
> 
> Comments are highly appreciated :) I love hearing how you guys experience this journey.


	10. You Can't Run Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just Kuroo's perspective this time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I finished my master and I'm editing and uploading this chapter literally on the plane to a new beginning. Thank god for free airplane wifi when you travel on new years eve.

**You Can't Run Forever**

**Kuroo.**

The exams had ended and the peculiar pacing of the year had finally blessed them with a long-awaited summer vacation. The first half of his 3rd year had gone by so unbelievably slow in Kuroo’s opinion, like he was stuck in an infinite loop of regrets, questions and overthinking. The days seemed as if blended together, over and over the same pattern of unfortunate events. Yet, it somehow felt ridiculous that everything that had happened this semester fitted into only a few months. It felt like yesterday that he had met the stone-cold expression of Tsukishima in that darkly lit cafe. Just yesterday, Tsukishima’s walls were tightly wrapped around the younger boy as a permanent shield, bleeding only with the strong dislike he felt for him. Then a million things happened, a million contradicting feelings emerged, a million questions appeared, and a million times had Kuroo’s eyes followed Tsukishima.

Time was a funny thing.

One says that time heals all wounds, but how much time is enough time? The openly bleeding wound in his body kept grinding just a little bit deeper every time his mind was painted black with self-hatred and disgust, rubbing painfully from underneath the skin. For every moment he let his thoughts drift, his pain felt a little more bearable by looking at those bouncing blonde curls accompanied by eyes of liquid honey- the repercussions resulted in moments of complete blackness. 

No, he had not learned how to deal with what had happened. Still completely at a loss as to how to deal with it. Still torn between what felt right and what society, his upbringing, his mind told him was right. Sometimes he just wanted to untangle himself from the metaphorical ropes that held him down, take Tsukishima into his arms and force him to listen again. But he didn’t do it, didn’t let himself. Did not let himself untangle from his own ropes, just to be roped in by somebody else. By Tsukishima. The guy that made him break all common sense, all carefully constructed rules he had made to keep up his persona. He had kissed Tsukishima, completely sober. He had let his body take control, let something instinctive inside of him dictate his actions. But those instincts were wrong. They had to be wrong. 

If there was just some sign, somebody that could tell him that what he was thinking was not wrong and that everything would be fine. Maybe then he could let himself go, if not just a little bit. 

The summer in Tokyo was always immensely hot. Wrapping itself around the city like a straightjacket, making it hard to breathe through the suffocating humidity levels. Showers had become irrelevant as the weather gave you approximately 3 minutes from the moment you walked out with a clean shirt until it was soaked dark with sweat, sticking uncomfortably to the skin. The sun was so bright that the overall impression of the sky was simply a white sheet of sun rays, rendering it near impossible to look up. The few greeneries that could be found around the area of the university looked as drained as everyone else from the heat, hanging limply in browned green colours.

However, for better or worse, the volleyball practices continued during the summer break. The air conditioning system in the practice area was not of the best quality, making practices close to unbearable at times. But with regular water breaks, it was not as bad as initially feared. 

“I have always been curious about the taste of butterflies. Like when I was younger, I was convinced they would taste like butter because you know… they have butter in their name,” Bokuto said conversationally as he and Kuroo strolled along the pavement on the way to practice. He was looking with a kind of sad expression up at a dry looking butterfly that rested lazily at a tree branch. 

“What?” Kuroo asked confused as Bokuto ended the comfortable silence, raising a brow in the owl’s direction. 

“No, I was just thinking it was named that for a reason you know,” Bokuto said as if he had made a very good point, smiling confidently. 

“Sometimes, I don’t know if I’m very scared or very curious to explore your brain,” Kuroo said with a small, almost fond smile as he shook his head.  
“You should be curious, it’s great up here,” Bokuto responded, punching lightly at Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Sure buddy,” Kuroo said with a smirk, taking a sip from the hot coffee he had brought with him in a tumbler. Grimacing as the hot beverage did not feel especially pleasant on such a violent summer day. 

“Man, you sure go out of your way to prove your coffee point to Akaashi and Tsukki,” Bokuto laughed. Kuroo had explained to him that he had to defend his pride as a man and a coffee drinker by demonstrating his commitment to the beverage. It had been a month since then. 

“Bro, I have a reputation to keep up, you know,” Kuroo said with a large grin, winking with one eye at Bokuto. 

“Bwhaha, afraid of not finding a new girlfriend?” Bokuto laughed loudly as they neared the practice hall. 

“Uhm, yeah sure,” Kuroo mumbled as a response, feeling how the discomfort under his skin tightened yet again. 

“Just make sure you actually like her this time around. You should shower your loved ones with love, make her feel special and you know, loved,” Bokuto said seriously, folding his arms together in front of his chest and nodding as if agreeing with himself. “If I had a girlfriend, I would like… you know,” Bokuto continued in thought.

“Love her?” Kuroo offered helpfully.

“Yeah exactly,“ Bokuto answered with excitement. 

“Sometimes Bokuto, you make a really good point,” Kuroo said with a small smile as he opened the door to the practice hall. However, Bokuto’s words rang in the back of his mind. _Make sure to find somebody you love, somebody you want to shower with love _\- was the essence of it. And the words kinda stuck at a place in his heart. A heart that had remained so dead in the department of love for as long as he could remember. A heart that had foreign emotions simmering at the bottom of it, begging him to embrace it.__

__“Hey Hey Hey, Akaashi, Tsukki!” Bokuto shouted out in excitement as they entered the door and spotted the two quiet players passing the ball back and forth with each other, already changed. He ran over to the pair with his arms spread wide, his target indicator locked at Tsukishima._ _

__“Bokuto-san, could you please learn how to greet Tsukishima without violating him,” Akaashi said tiredly as he stepped in front of Tsukishima to shield him from Bokuto’s greeting attack. Bokuto halted in his steps and looked at Akaashi with a pout._ _

__“Akaaaaashi,” Bokuto whined._ _

__Kuroo followed slowly after his excited friend, clapping at his shoulder with a huge grin on his face._ _

__“Better luck next time buddy,” he said with a laugh and pushed at Bokuto’s shoulder to make him follow him to the locker room to change. Not wanting to stay and dwell in the presence of Tsukishima._ _

__It had been a month, yet the synchronization between the Tsukishima and Kuroo pair was still off. After countless lectures given by both the coach and the captain which had helped the situation by exactly 0%, the coach had opted for them to play on different teams during in-team matches to give them some space to get over whatever was going on between them. At least, that was Kuroo’s guess as to why he suddenly had separated them after a week of awkward practice. However, this had just made everything worse. Standing face to face on opposite sides of the net, forced to look directly at each other at a 1 to 2 meters distance, was worse for Kuroo’s concentration than simply working together on the same side of the net. The coach's final solution had been to change the starting position of Kuroo’s practice team so Kuroo faced Iwaizumi’s left-wing position instead._ _

__It had worked quite well, both boys were far more successful in ignoring the other’s presence when not being forced to face each other directly or work together. However, one could still practically touch the thick tension between the pair, upsetting the whole synergy of the team altogether. That day was no different. Kuroo could see the coach glowering at the side of the court, hands crossed in front of his chest and the vein on his forehead was close to pop out of frustration. Kuroo had the eerie feeling that the coach was reaching his limit._ _

__But to be fair, Kuroo was surprised that he had let it continue for such a long time._ _

__“Kuroo, Tsukishima,” The coach shouted loudly, a sound simmering from deep within his chest._ _

__The game halted instantly. Akaashi caught the ball as the game stopped, and the setter seemed to almost feel awkward to simply stand there and hold the ball instead of setting it. The called upon pair turned around to face the coach, and Kuroo was certain that Tsukishima also had no problem guessing why they were called upon._ _

__“Come here you two! Kaizuki team Oikawa, Kawaguchi team Akaashi,” the coach demanded as he motioned with his hand for the reserve players to get in the game, for then to pin his angry gaze back at the pair._ _

__“What is it, coach?” Kuroo had the audacity to ask as he approached the sidelines, looking at him with a sheepish look._ _

__He could hear the familiar ‘Tch’ sound from the left side of him but refused to look at the source._ _

__“Guys, I believe I have been beyond patient at this point,” the coach grunted and tilted his head to the left to motion for the pair to follow him. When they were out of earshot from the rest of the team, the coach turned back towards them. “I don’t know what is going on-”_ _

__“Nothing is-” Tsukishima started but was swiftly cut off by the coach._ _

__“As I said, I don't know what your deal is nor do I actually care, but I need it to stop right now or you are off the team,”_ _

__Tsukishima and Kuroo gulped simultaneously, their postures turning rigid._ _

__“But coach,” started Kuroo, completely lost for words._ _

__“No buts, I can’t have players that can't work together and ruin the synergy of the whole team on the court. That much you guys understand,” the coach said firmly, studying them both with serious eyes. Eyes that told them the reality of the situation._ _

__Kuroo could not believe what he was hearing. Getting thrown off the team? That seemed so unreal. Volleyball was the only stable thing in his life, the only thing that always made sense. If he did not have volleyball, what did he have? What was the reason to go to such lengths to protect himself if the action of protecting himself led to this scenario? He had to fix this somehow. Had to deal with his inner turmoil. Had to make Tsukishima listen to them. If they both just tried, surely they could move on and go back to friends. Back to the times where they talked, to normalcy._ _

__He missed that so much. Missed talking to the younger, missed being in his presence. But he had let his darkness take the steering wheel._ _

__And at this moment, he realized he could not do that anymore._ _

__“You know, I thought better of you guys. You didn’t strike me as players that let personal matters affect the way you play. I’ve let this slide until now because the season just ended and we have time to prepare for the next tournament, and honestly I thought you guys would realize your stupidity by yourself. It, however, seems like I'm mistaken,” the coach continued in the same strict voice lazed in frustration._ _

__Kuroo and Tsukmishima both looked down. Kuroo felt shameful. Felt like an idiot. And he guessed that Tsukishima did not feel that much better about the situation. Tsukishima had found his passion, learned to love the game. He did not want this outcome any more than Kuroo did._ _

__“Sorry,” they mumbled down at the floor._ _

__“I don’t want any apologies. I just want you to fix your shit, get over whatever happened.So you two can be on cleaning duty today, and don’t leave before you guys have made up. Or I will have to switch you out,” the coach said as he picked his keys out of his pocket and handed them to Tsukishima. “Work on your individual training for now,”_ _

__Kuroo wanted to protest. Wanted to say that he was being unreasonable, but he knew the coach was right. Knew that they were ruining the play for all their team members. And he didn’t want to be such a person, neither the burden of the team nor a player that could not separate his personal life from the court. So he would do this, he would make them go back to how they were before._ _

__“See you at home, bro,” Bokuto said as he winked farewell to the pair left on cleaning duty._ _

__They had all showered and changed back into their casual wear, and the team as a whole had left with nervous goodbyes to the pair left standing. As Bokuto shut the door as the last man remaining, the silence of the room became complete. The silence felt so foreign in the large hall, used to every shout for ‘mine’, ‘nice serve’ and ‘nice toss’ echoing throughout the room. Used to the screeching of volleyball shoes and the thud of the ball hitting the soft flesh of forearms or the floor. But now, there was silence._ _

__It remained like that for a few fleeting moments before he could hear the soft steps of Tsukishima making his way somewhere in the room. But he didn’t know where, because he didn’t look._ _

__“How the fuck are we going to do this,” Kuroo mumbled for himself. However, he had underestimated how easily the sound carried in the spacious room and the sound came out much louder than he expected. Echoing through the emptiness._ _

__“You could start by helping me put this down,” Tsukishima said as his footsteps squeaked against the soft floor. His voice was already sounding irritated and Kuroo could hear the squeaking sound vanish, the younger halting somewhere in the middle of the room._ _

__Kuroo turned reluctantly around in response to the request and saw Tsukishima reaching up to untie the volleyball net from the poles. Looking at his side profile, Kuroo's stomach did that godforsaken flip as it always did when he laid eyes upon him and simultaneously dropped by that stone-cold expression of the younger. An expression full of everything painful that had happened, amber eyes that refused to look in his direction. Everything about the way Tsukishima had been acting in front of the older felt so wrong to Kuroo, made him want to shout out for the younger to stop. But he knew he deserved it, knew that the way in which he was behaving in front of the younger was no better, if not worse._ _

__“How is that going to solve anything?” Kuroo genuinely asked, biting his lips as he let his eyes wander. Looking at the younger was simply too painful and too good at the same time._ _

__“The equipment doesn’t clean themselves you know,” Tsukishima said in an exasperated voice, sighing loudly. Kuroo could practically hear the blonde rolling his eyes._ _

__“Yeah cuz that’s totally what I was referring to,” Kuroo said in an unpleasant voice he could not refrain himself from using. He knew that approaching this matter with a negative tone would not help solve anything, but Kuroo could not stop his emotions and actions from flip-flopping violently whenever the younger was involved. Nevertheless, he slowly moved himself from his standstill position to the opposite end of the net and started to take it down._ _

__“Roll it together and I’ll start with the poles,” Tsukishima ordered with an emotionless voice, dropping the net to the ground as he turned to remove one of the poles. The younger had yet to look at him and it was just beyond frustrating. Kuroo actually wanted to fix things, to further everything, but Tsukishima always made things so damn difficult._ _

__“Are you just going to clean up and leave?” Kuroo asked with genuine curiosity but still did as Tsukishima ordered and rolled up the net._ _

__“I don’t know Kuroo-san, you still seem so uncomfortable only by looking at me, so I thought we would do both of us a favour,” Tsukishima said with a tight voice, almost strained. Like he was struggling with even saying those words to Kuroo. He had halted in the process of removing the poll, now simply clenching at the hard material with stiff fingers._ _

__“I’m sorry, I-” Kuroo started quietly, still not sure how to voice his apology. He dug his fingers down in the netting material, holding on to anything to get him through this talk._ _

__“You know, I don’t have time for this. I have places to be, “ Tsukishima said loudly as he picked up the pole and started to carry it to the equipment room._ _

__“Places that are more important than being able to play volleyball?” Kuroo asked with a raised brow, following the younger with the net in his hand._ _

__Placing it down on the storage shelf, he turned around to look at the younger, begging him with his gaze to look back._ _

__“What do you want me to do huh?” Tsukishima asked with a sneer as he quickly turned around and met Kuroo’s gaze. It had been such a long time since they actually looked at each other instead of averting their gazes, it sent chills down his spine. It was always those eyes that did him in, those eyes of liquid honey so deep you could drown in them._ _

__“I need you to listen to my apology,” Kuroo said as calmly as he could while being left breathless by those eyes._ _

__Tsukishima went immediately in a defensive position, eyes turning hard and Kuroo could see that his breath was stuck in his throat._ _

__“Give it to me then,” Tsukishima said irritated, putting his hands on his hips and looking impatient._ _

__“Where do you need to go that is so damn important?” Kuroo asked, feeling slightly irritated himself._ _

__“Not that it is any of your business, but I’m meeting Yui,” Tsukishima said through tight lips._ _

__“You still see her?” Kuroo asked in surprise with what could only be described as jealousy floating through him._ _

__“She is my friend, think I told you that didn’t I?” Tsukishima said almost mockingly, his brow raised. It was no secret that what he referred to was _that_ day, what they both had revealed that day. Kuroo turned bright red by the memory, remembering the secret, the compliments that he had shared with Tsukishima. He had ridiculously hoped that he was the only one that had remembered everything that had happened that night. But luck was not on his side._ _

__“Ah yeah, uhm..about that,” Kuroo said quietly, scratching at his cheek awkwardly._ _

__“Thought you were gonna apologize?” Tsukishima said harshly._ _

__“I will, but first I need you to...no I’m begging you to not tell anybody about what I said that night,” Kuroo said with a gulp, forcing his eyes away from Tsukishima's._ _

__“Was it the truth?” Tsukishima asked, voice now uncertain in its tone. There was as if something in his voice had melted a bit since only seconds ago, struggling to keep up his harsh front._ _

__“W-what?” asked Kuroo confused and automatically looked up. But as he did so, he could see Tsukishima closing in on him, slowly taking small baby steps towards him._ _

__His heart was running a mile a minute, he wanted to run away, he wanted to pull the younger closer. The blush in his cheeks must have darkened triple-fold judging by the burning sensation on his skin._ _

__“What you said that night,” Tsukishima asked quietly, yet the words held such a strong tone. Like the younger was demanding the complete truth. He tried to think about what he should say, how to respond, but he was drowning. He was drowning in that sea of liquid honey. He could not hear his own thoughts beyond his beating heart. Tsukishima was so close, yet not close enough._ _

__“Y-yes,” Kuroo shamefully admitted, almost absentmindedly. He could not say anything different, not when Tsukishima was in front of him like that, looking at him like that. In a more sane state of mind, he may excuse his honesty later on the fact that he had decided to make up with Tsukishima to save his volleyball career. And he had a feeling that saying everything he said that night was a lie was not the best approach to make Tsukishima accept his apology. But he could not really excuse his admission on anything other than him being swept away by how beautiful Tsukishima was. He would not really believe himself. Not anymore._ _

__“Kuroo-san, how I’m I supposed to figure out and deal with my feelings when you at one moment look at me with disgust and the next you look at me like you do now?” Tsukishima asked quietly as if they could be overheard. But there was only them there, only them together in the equipment room. Nobody could interrupt them._ _

__Then Tsukishima moved impossibly closer, his eyes so intense._ _

__“I-It’s not you who are disgusting,” Kuroo answered breathlessly, reminding him of the time in the locker room when he had uttered those exact same words. However, this time the situation lacked the heat of anger. The anger was substituted for the heat of dangerous electricity connecting Tsukishima and him. If he lacked the capability of coherent thought then, he now felt almost completely mindless._ _

__Then the whole sentence that Tsukishima had spoken caught up to him and he took a quick intake of breath. “Feelings?” Kuroo asked, holding his breath as he waited for the answer. Whatever the younger was to give him in response, Kuroo did not know if he was ready to handle it._ _

__“Mhm,” Tsukishima answered quietly, still with those eyes locking Kuroo in place._ _

__Tsukishima placed his hand on Kuroo’s chest. The action seemed to happen like in slow motion, yet Kuroo could do nothing to stop it. His palm was resting on the soft t-shirt material covering his heart. It jumped pathetically at the touch, stopping for a second before it resumed to its fast-beating pace. There was no hiding how his heart reacted, not with how close Tsukishima’s hand was to his traitor of a heart._ _

__“I’m not the only one it seems,” Tsukishima said with a small smile that reached his eyes. It was beautiful beyond words. Such a precious little smile. Like a little piece of something ethereal, too overwhelming to take in._ _

__"What are you doing?" Kuroo asked in shock, trapped in his standstill position._ _

__"Doing something about the situation," he answered. The answer confused Kuroo, lacking the puzzle pieces to make the whole picture. Lacking the context to understand what the younger meant._ _

__“I - I - I’m .. I’m not in love with you. You are a guy!” Kuroo forced out as he tapped into his self-hatred to break through Tsukishima’s spell. It didn't matter what those last words meant, because he clearly understood the previous ones. He could not let himself fall deeper into the younger's trap no matter what he may or may not have understood about himself. Just because he had realised his attraction to the younger, it did not mean he had to actually accept it, act upon it. He was still so conflicted between his head and his heart. So lost among his confliction._ _

__He was not ready for this conversation. At least his mind was not. His body on the other hand betrayed far more about his feelings on the subject at hand than he would have liked. Not only to Tsukishima, but to himself. Making denying that this thing between them was nothing so unbearable hard._ _

__“I’m not saying that Kuroo-san. I’m just saying that I think that that night made both of us realize something about ourselves,” Tsukishima said as he slid his hand upwards, grazing the material before it reached the bare skin of his neck._ _

__Then he kissed him._ _

__Just a light brush of lips. Far more innocent than what they had done that day in the locker room, that day in Tsukishima’s apartment. However, that did not matter. It still felt like a spark of fireworks from the moment of contact. Still felt like the world just made a little bit more sense. And the kiss itself felt maybe more right than it had done the previous two times. It was not a kiss from anger nor was it a kiss out of daring drunkness. It was just a kiss, and it made Kuroo want to throw away all his worries just to feel that heat just a little bit longer._ _

__But there was also something very final about the kiss, like a goodbye. It felt like Tsukishima was saying goodbye and everything within him tore at him to keep the younger from leaving._ _

__Then Tsukishima pulled away and stepped a couple of steps back._ _

__“Let’s end this now,” Tsukishima said calmly, yet his eyes betrayed that the words seemed harder to let out than his voice suggested._ _

__“What do you mean?” Kuroo asked, his mouth dry and it felt like a huge clump was stuck in his throat. There was so much going on in his head, a million things. How dared Tsukishima decide on his own what Kuroo felt. Why did his body keep betraying him in front of the younger? Why did Tsukishima feel so right? Why could he not deny it? Why could he not just be normal? Why was he disappointed to hear that Tsukishima wanted to end this when this was exactly what he had wanted only moments ago?_ _

__“What I mean is, whatever this thing between us was. Whatever you are dealing with. Let’s recognize that it exists so it will not continue to be this big elephant in the room. Then, let’s move on,” Tsukishima said with a simple shrug of his shoulders._ _

__“There is nothing going on between us,” protested Kuroo, the new space between their bodies gave his fears space to take over his mouth. He knew by now that he was lying, knew there was something there though he really wished for it not to be. But he could not say that aloud, he was not ready, didn’t know if he ever would be._ _

__Tsukishima simply rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. It seemed like he wanted to argue, wanted to lay out the countless pieces of evidence that contradicted his statement. They just shared a kiss being one of the very evident ones. Kuroo had not rejected him. Did not think he had any willpower left to do so. But Tsukishima didn’t argue, he simply said,_ _

__“I’m done. Figure out a way to stay on the court by yourself,” Tsukishima said with a shrug, he left the keys that the coach had given to them on the shelf next to him and left the equipment room and the practice hall altogether. Leaving Kuroo alone with the remaining cleaning job._ _

__\----------_ _

__

__“Bro, what happened back there during practice?” Bokuto asked as Kuroo walked through the door of their shared apartment after having finished cleaning the practice hall by himself. He was sitting down in one of the red beanbags facing the entrance area, turning his phone absentmindedly around in his hand._ _

__Kuroo jumped in surprise and quickly put his hand over his beating heart in reflex, not expecting to be attacked by Bokuto the second he walked in._ _

__“Man, have you been waiting for me?” Kuroo asked a bit breathlessly, his heart still hammering violently in his chest from the surprise._ _

__“Yeah! Like the coach did not tell us why you two were forced to practice on your own and left to do the cleaning. Man, I need answers, “ Bokuto said with his naturally loud voice and shrugged a bit, as if to tell Kuroo that waiting for him was not anything weird._ _

__“Uhm, well,” Kuroo started a bit uncertain as he chipped off his shoes by the entrance and entered the room at large. He did not particularly want to explain anything to Bokuto, but he also knew that he could not exactly keep what happened a secret either. “Coach said that Tsukki and I had to start getting along or we will be thrown off the team. So we had to stay behind to fix our shit,” Kuroo continued, scratching a bit sheepishly at the back of his head._ _

__“Bro, thrown out? He can’t do that! You're gonna be the next team captain and everything!” Bokuto exclaimed horrified, waving his arms excessively as he was talking, almost dropping his phone. He looked like a lost puppy, like he found the prospect of Kuroo not being on the team unimaginable._ _

__But then he halted a bit in his movements and cocked his head curiously. “Why are you not getting along with Tsukki though bro? I thought you guys had become friends.”_ _

__Give it to Bokuto to not notice the awkwardness in the air._ _

__“It’s...It’s complicated bro,” Kuroo sighed as he let himself fall down on the other bean bag._ _

__“But you have to fix it! You can’t not play volleyball,” Bokuto said like this was a fixed truth in life. As the earth orbits around the sun, there are seven days a week, we all die someday and Kuroo plays volleyball. However, Bokuto was not exactly wrong in his statement either._ _

__“I know bro,” Kuroo said as he nodded slowly. He had to play volleyball, yet he let himself get so distracted by Tsukishima that everything that was important to him was getting affected. He had not done as well as he would have liked at the exams, he was pushing his friend’s away and now volleyball was at stake. And Kuroo knew, had already told himself, that this could not go on for any longer. He had to do something about the mess inside himself. He had to get some answers._ _

__“I’ll fix it,” Kuroo said firmly, sending a half-smile in Bokuto’s direction._ _

__“I know you will,” Bokuto answered back with a bright smile._ _

__The words felt good. It felt good to hear that Bokuto always had his back, always believed in him. When you are struggling to find yourself, there was always good to have somebody that didn’t have a doubt. Who can put you back on your track, remind you of who you are._ _

__Biting at his lower lip, he stared down at his lap as an idea came to his mind. He did not know whether this might be the second-ever worst decision in his life after knocking on Tsukishima’s door that day, but he was left with very few options._ _

__Kuroo fished up his phone from the loose summer shorts and looked emptily at the screen. His finger hovering over his contacts in LINE, wondering whether this was the right decision._ _

__He needed to be given some answers, he needed to talk with somebody, but he didn’t know who. Or more correctly, he didn’t know if whom he was thinking of was the correct ones. There was so much that could go wrong. There was a chance that everything he had worked so hard to maintain could crash and burn by taking this step forward. But he also knew that he had to try something. Knew that he could not give up volleyball because of Tsukishima - no, because of him having problems accepting certain … elements of himself. He just wanted to deny everything, but at what cost?_ _

__Making up his mind, he clicked to open the chat and sent the following message,_ _

__**(17:09)** : Hey, I have something to talk with you guys about. Could I come over later? _ _

__A couple of minutes went by before he got a response. Unaware of what Kuroo had decided to do, Bokuto had changed the topic and continued to ramble on about a cool dog he had seen on his way home that had sunglasses. In the meantime, Kuroo had twiddled absentmindedly, a bit nervous, with his thumbs as he listened to Bokuto’s words without really taking them in._ _

__He tried to organize his thoughts, trying to plan what he was going to say so he would not expose himself. He had to find a way to talk about the subject at hand without revealing his inner battle with himself, what he had done and who he was afraid of becoming. But how to get answers without asking the questions?_ _

__When the phone plinged with a response, Kuroo was so deep in his own thought that he almost dropped his phone in surprise. Prompting another mini heart attack for the nth time that day._ _

__The message read,_ _

__‘That sounds suspicious omg. But sure, I’m up for the tea. 8 works for you?’_ _

__He quickly answered that eight worked perfectly fine with him before he had time to regret his decision and back out last minute. He had to do this, had to gather the courage to take the first step towards fixing himself. He was not entirely sure what fixing himself meant at this point in time, but he guessed he would find that answer soon enough. He just had to have the courage to try._ _

__The phone lit up again with the address and Kuroo pocketed his phone and raised himself up from the bean bag and glanced at Bokuto._ _

__“Should I make dinner?” he asked with a small smile, feeling especially grateful for his friend for the small interaction._ _

__“Hell yeah,” Bokuto cheered, looking like Christmas had come early._ _

__\------_ _

__“My my, who has shown up to receive advice from the almighty Oikawa,” Oikawa said smugly with a huge grin painting his face as he opened the door. He was dressed casually in a loose white t-shirt of a thin material and by the looks of it, pyjama pants._ _

__“I don’t think I ever mentioned needing advice from you,” Kuroo said as he wrinkled his nose at Oikawa, crossing his arms to put emphasis on the sass of his statement._ _

__“Tetsu-can, why else would you come over to ‘talk’,” Oikawa said as he waved his hand in front of him and made air-quotes at the word talk, still with his brilliant smirk of confidence._ _

__“Clearly, to get advice from Iwaizumi,” Kuroo said with a smirk, heaving one eyebrow in amusement._ _

__“You are so mean, Tetsu-chan,” Oikawa complained with a pout. Nevertheless, he stepped aside to let Kuroo enter the apartment. “Get in, you ungrateful bastard.”_ _

__Kuroo entered the apartment and spotted Iwaizumi sitting by the kitchen table drinking what looked like tea as he placed his shoes haphazardly at the shoe rack with his feet, too lazy to bend down and properly place them._ _

__“Hey, Iwaizumi,” Kuroo called out with a lazy wink._ _

__Iwaizumi looked back at Kuroo with a quite unfamiliar expression. He usually looked so strained, borderline angry. But now he looked comfortable, content there he sat with his shoulders relaxed and a small smile painting his usually strained mouth. Was this how Iwaizumi was at home?_ _

__They had been friends for a long time now, but he had actually never visited the pair’s apartment. They always hung out at Bokuto and his apartment when they all hung out together. And suddenly Kuroo asked himself why that was the case. They could naturally not visit Akaashi’s place as he lived in the dorms, which had quite strict visiting rules and no tolerance for alcohol. However, there was no reason as to why they never went to Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s place._ _

__“Good evening Kuroo, you want some tea?” Iwaizumi asked, already standing up and getting ready to prepare some._ _

__“Iwa-chan, it is Kuroo that is serving the tea today,” Oikawa said in an overly cute voice as he winked his eyes at Iwaizumi._ _

__”Shut up, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi growled, his sour expression back. Turning back to Kuroo, he asked, “Black tea or fruit tea?”_ _

__“Uhm, black tea,” he answered, slightly uncomfortable. He could never understand the pair, nevermind keep up with their rhythm. They were always together and had for a long time. Yet it didn’t seem like Iwaizumi particularly liked Oikawa most of the time. But if he didn't like him, why would he keep following Oikawa everywhere went?_ _

__“You want to sit in the kitchen or living room?” Iwaizumi asked._ _

__“I guess living room,” Kuroo answered._ _

__After Iwaizumi had prepared a cup of black tea with some milk and sugar in it, the trio sat themselves down in the living room. Oikawa and Iwaizumi sat themselves down at the couch, knees touching carefully, and Kuroo shifted one of the chairs to face the couch’s direction before he sat himself down._ _

__Actually sitting down and being about to hold this dreaded conversation made the situation very real to Kuroo. Made panic build up in his chest as he questioned how smart his decision to actually do this was. Oikawa had the loosest mouth known to human history, what the hell was Kuroo supposed to do if they got the whiff of his actual truth. What would he do if they actually saw through his masked words?_ _

__But he was here now, he could not back out. He had to do this for the sake of volleyball. For the sake of his own mental health._ _

__“So what do our cute Tetsu-chan struggle with to the point of having to resort to my expert opinion?” Oikawa asked with his smug grin, leaning back on the couch with his own hot beverage in his hands. He seemed to not sense the dread that was going through Kuroo, the seriousness of the situation - but again, how could he expect him to?_ _

__“Does it need to be such a struggle for me to ask to be heard out?” Kuroo asked with a raised brow, forcing himself to keep a cool outer appearance as he gripped hard at the mug in his hands. As the grip on his mug was the force that kept him rooted to the earth, made him stay present._ _

__“To be honest with you Kuroo, you stopped sharing anything personal with us during the end of our first year. So yeah, this is kinda surprising,” Iwaizumi answered calmly, his dark eyes pinning Kuroo’s analytically._ _

__Oikawa made a sound as in agreement._ _

__This hit Kuroo like a slap in the face. He had always been an open guy that spoke freely and easily shared details about himself. Had always prided himself on his social skills once he found volleyball as a bridge between himself and others, the bridge that connected the lonely islands that were humanity together. Had he not distanced himself just recently?_ _

__According to Iwaizumi, this had gone on for much longer than he had realized. Ever since … since his dick had stopped working and every intimate relationship had felt wrong to him._ _

__“Oh,” Kuroo answered, too stunned by this revelation to really contribute anything coherent._ _

__“Putting all joking aside, we were actually quite happy that you asked to talk to us,” Oikawa said with unusual seriousness. His eyes shone with care, and Kuroo did not really know how to respond to the genuine care that the pair showed him. Today was really the day where he realized how great his friends were._ _

__“You guys are making this awkward,” Kuroo mumbled down in his tea mug, adjusting himself a bit uncomfortably in the chair. Unable to find a position where he did not feel uncomfortable in his own skin. “This is turning into such a girly conversation,”_ _

__“God stop it with the toxic masculinity. Guys should be able to speak openly to each other like this. If more guys did it, I honestly believe the world would be a better place,” Oikawa argued, his available hand gesturing in the air as he spoke._ _

__“Yeah, alright, ok,” Kuroo answered awkwardly._ _

__Come on, just say it. Just say it you coward, Kuroo thought to himself with his lips shut tightly together in a grimace._ _

__The pair was looking at him expectantly, patiently waiting for him to gather the courage to say whatever was troubling him._ _

__“So I have this friend…” Kuroo started lamely. Resorting to the lamest excuse in the history of excuses._ _

__“Really? Are you really going to use the ‘my friend’ excuse?” Oikawa asked with a raised eyebrow._ _

__“Just hear me out ok?” Kuroo said in a deep breath. He could not ask directly, he had to wrap it with an excuse. Or else he knew he would never be able to say what he needed to say._ _

__“Let him speak,” Iwaizumi said calmly, squeezing Oikawa’s thigh affectionately. It was such an intimate touch that Kuroo could not understand, could not comprehend. It made his stomach knot itself uncomfortably. It was like his own sensitivity in regard to his not so straight thoughts was manifesting itself to other’s actions. The action did however make Oikawa stop protesting and look expectantly at Kuroo for him to continue._ _

__“So yeah, uhm, I have this friend. I won’t name him due to privacy reasons. But.. he, how can I put it, uhm he did some g-gay stuff..and now I do not know how to react to him. How to accept him,” Kuroo started quietly, looking carefully up from his mug to study their reactions. Their reaction was as expected, their faces contorted into strained, uncomfortable imitations of their normal expressions. Like the words did not sit right with them. But could Kuroo expect something different? This was Japan! This was a very conservative country filled with people of old-fashion thinking patterns. He could not expect them to tell him that there was nothing wrong with his ‘friend’, to say that gay people were natural. It still made it so much harder to continue. But he had to. Had convinced himself that this will give him the answers he needed, regardless of whether the outcome was good or bad._ _

__“And you are coming to us with this because why?” Iwaizumi asked with a strained undertone under his calmness._ _

__“Uhm, you guys were victims of a lot of gay rumours during your first year and I thought… well, I don’t really know what I thought. That you guys could have an insight on the topic? “ Kuroo answered dumbly. Saying the words out loud made his reason for going to the pair with his struggles so obviously stupid. How were those two issues even remotely related? “Now that I’m saying it out loud, I kinda realized that it was a stupid reason.”_ _

__“You don’t say,” Oikawa said as he rolled his eyes at Kuroo and puffed out an irritated sound. “But we can still listen to what you have to say,”_ _

__“We can still offer our opinion,” Iwaizumi agreed, his expression still twisted in this not so carefully concealed anger and irritation.”So you do not know how to accept your friend because he is gay?”_ _

__“Well,” Kuroo coughed, “He does not think he is gay, maybe, but… still, what he did was not exactly natural,”_ _

__“Exactly who has decided that it’s not natural? You find homosexuality in several different species all around the globe. God, I can’t believe you can be wrapped so tightly in your toxic masculinity bubble that you are willing to ostracize a friend because of who he loves or who he fucks,” Oikawa said in an explosion of emotions, seemingly unable to keep them from bubbling to the surface._ _

__The words surprised Kuroo though. They had just shown expressions of what Kuroo interpreted to be disgust of the topic. But now.. Oikawa just expressed the complete opposite. Now he was asking Kuroo how he dared judge his ‘friend’ for his sexuality._ _

__“But isn’t it….I dunno, kinda disgusting?” Kuroo asked carefully, biting his lower lip in expectations of their answer._ _

__“God I’m done. I can’t deal with this. I can’t allow-” Oikawa started in the same explosion of raw emotions._ _

__“Oikawa don't,” Iwaizumi said in a quiet warning._ _

__“You know what Iwa-chan? I don’t care anymore, I’m done. I can’t sit and listen to someone I consider a friend talk shit about me, about us that way. Fuck the consequences,”_ _

__“Talk shit about you guys? What do you mean?” Kuroo asked confused, looking back and forth from the tense, nervous expression of Iwaizumi to Oikawa’s furious one._ _

__“Are you really that stupid?” Oikawa asked in disbelief as he dragged the skin of his face down in frustration. “I’m gay, I like dick. I am one of those disgusting people you are sitting here and talking about in my very own living room,”_ _

__This made Kuroo stop in his tracks. A lightbulb turned slowly on in his mind as he continued to look between the pair. They were gay, they were a couple. Then his mind turned immediately to his upbringing, to what society has taught him, to his own personal feelings on the subject; Disgust._ _

__Kuroo’s eyes narrowed sharply as he looked at them in a new light, his nose scrunching up. His grip on his mug tightened as the self-hatred that nested within him got projected out at somebody else._ _

__“Ew, I have showered naked with you guys!” Kuroo exclaimed in a voice full of revulsion._ _

__The angry expression of Oikawa was immediately taken over by a look of utter devastation. So broken that he felt his own heart shatter by looking. Kuroo did not dare look at Iwaizumi. Did not dare to create more cracks in his heart. He knew he was wrong for saying those words to them, but were they also not wrong? Were they not wrong for accepting this part of themselves, for having such a lifestyle?_ _

__“I knew you were a bigot Kuroo, but even I did not expect this,” Iwaizumi pressed out through gritted teeth, his tone almost dangerous._ _

__“You guys were hiding it for a reason. You know it's wrong,” Kuroo quickly argued back. His mind was singing a mantra, repeating over and over that this is wrong. He was wrong. They were wrong._ _

__“No, Kuroo. It is the society that is in the wrong for forcing us to hide it. Why should our love be less valid than anybody else's love? Why is it wrong when it feels like the most natural thing in the world?” Iwaizumi continued in the same manner. Holding onto his dangerous calmness._ _

__His words hit something deep within Kuroo. His mantra halting. _When it feels like the most natural thing_ …Why indeed was it wrong when every bone in his body told him that Tsukishima felt so right? Oikawa and Iwaizumi had accepted who they were and had fallen in love with each other despite what society told them. Despite everyone around them telling them it was wrong. It was like they just had answered an important question that had not fully formed in his mind yet._ _

__Kuroo bit his lower lip harshly, clenching his body tightly as he tried to force away from the grips that his upbringing held around him. He knew he needed to continue this conversation, needed to put his conflict aside for just a moment. He needed this conversation, needed more answers. And somehow he knew they were giving him the answers he was secretly longing to hear. And more importantly, he knew his outburst was more to do with his inner conflict with himself than it had to do with them being gay. After all, he had thought about this before. Thought about what he would do if the rumours about them were true after all. His conclusion had then not been to call them names, call them disgusting. He had asked himself if he would maybe distance himself, but he didn't know for sure. Didn’t know if he could really abandon his friends because they were gay._ _

__“Sorry I-” Kuroo started slowly, the words sounding thick on his tongue. “ I should not have said that. I just - I don’t know. You don't deserve that,”_ _

__“Wow,” Oikawa hissed out through a broken laugh, tears visible at the corner of his eyes. Iwaizumi put his hand on the back of Oikawa’s back and gently comforted him with gentle caresses._ _

__“No, we don’t. But I accept your apology if you really mean it,” Iwaizumi answered, his voice softening ever so slightly as he continued to comfort Oikawa._ _

__“I do,” Kuroo said seriously._ _

__Iwaizumi nodded slowly to confirm that his apology was accepted before he looked back up at Oikawa with a question in his eyes._ _

__“Babe?” Iwaizumi asked carefully_ _

__“You must really be serious if you call me babe,” Oikawa answered with a wavering laugh as he dried his tears with his index finger. “Ok, fine. I’ll let your little homophobic outburst slide for now,” Oikawa added as he fixed his eyes on Kuroo._ _

__“So.. you guys are together? You are both g-gay?” Kuroo asked carefully, feeling a bit dumb for asking. But he still felt so conflicted about this whole revelation. He felt sort of relieved, like he just got a small comfort that he desperately needed. He felt jealous, jealous that the pair accepted something he still very much tried to deny being more than a moment of insanity. He also felt like the mush of feelings he felt towards Tsukishima slowly cleared, the foggy clouds disappearing. Iwaizumi and Oikawa was a possibility, and somehow that made a traitorous part of him think of the possibility of Tsukishima and him. Yet he could not pretend that it still did not feel somewhat wrong. The notion of homosexuality being wrong, unnatural was too imbedded in him from birth._ _

__“Is it that difficult to even say the word gay?” Oikawa asked frustrated and shut his hand up in the air to what Kuroo believed to be a physical manifestation of his frustration._ _

__“Calm down Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said with a voice that was far too calm for somebody that had just been called disgusting. “Yes, we are together. But I do not really identify as gay. I had only liked women before Oikawa. I believe everybody exists on a spectrum though, and Oikawa was that one guy that fitted into my personal spectrum I guess,”_ _

__“Yeah, I do identify as gay but labels do not really matter. You just like who you like, it’s actually that easy,” Oikawa added on to Iwaizumi’s words._ _

__This was an even bigger revelation to Kuroo. Spectrums? Being not gay but still being together with a guy? Had he entered into an alternative future where all his learnings had become a part of the past? He wanted so much for their words to be true. If people could just like people, be attracted to people, there was no need to spend energy and sacrifice his mental health to deny himself._ _

__He was attracted to Tsukishima, his heart always beat in the most ridiculous rhythms around him, he made him smile - what if that did not need to be so complicated?_ _

__However, the world did not work like that outside the confinement of this comfortable apartment. So was this kind of wishful thinking even realistic?_ _

__“B-but.. If you have been attracted to only women before Oikawa. How can you .. you know?” Kuroo said as he gesticulated something that could in no circumstances be interpreted as anything else than fucking, and in this case, an ass. His curiosity on the matter triumphing any feelings of leftover disgust._ _

__This made Oikawa spit out an abrupt laugh, seemingly already over what he had said only moments ago. ''God, how can I continue to be angry when you look like both a kicked and a curious puppy at the same time,"_ _

__“That is awfully personal,” Iwaizumi commented dryly, tightening his lips._ _

__“Well, you would not know anything about fucking an ass though Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said through his laughter. And if Kuroo thought he was done getting surprised this evening, he was very much wrong. Did Oikawa just imply that Iwaizumi was the bottom? Or did they just not do penetrative sex?_ _

__“Can you not share-” Iwazumi started before he was interrupted by Oikawa._ _

__“Don’t be embarrassed that you are a bottom Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said with a smirk, winking in Iwaizumi’s direction._ _

__“Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi spluttered, his face turning dark red._ _

__Kuroo almost choked on his spit. This conversation was so far from what he had imagined when he first came here. But he could not say that he was necessarily disappointed by this outcome. They made the matter so simple. Like he was the idiot for making a big deal out of his feelings. It made him relax his tense shoulders ever so little, and made breathing a bit easier. It was so hard to stay tense when the situation was like this. When they had a lover’s spat about revealing who took it in the ass in the relationship. Right in front of him._ _

__Kuroo could feel laughter almost bubbling to the surface, feeling some of his old self returning._ _

__“Well I guess it is not so weird that Oikawa is the top,” Kuroo stated with a small smile._ _

__This comment made Oikawa light up and looked at Iwaizumi with a confident, triumphant smile._ _

__“After all, you have no ass to put anything into,” Kuroo snickered to Oikawa. He could not stop himself from making a snarky remark. The opportunity was oh so perfect and the open environment the two had created made it almost impossible to keep a serious note._ _

__This comment, however, made Iwaizumi spit out the tea he just took a sip of in surprise and amusement, while Oikawa’s confident smile dropped instantaneously and he looked back at Kuroo in disbelief._ _

__“The nerve,” Oikawa stated in a butthurt voice. Kuroo simply shrugged._ _

__“M-movi-i-i ng on pft-from the topic of Oikawa’s ass,” Iwaizumi said with laughter still present in his voice, making it difficult to properly speak. He went on to dry the wet patches of tea on his bare thighs with some napkins he had brought earlier._ _

__“Shut up,” Oikawa complained, looking quite offended there he sat with his arms folded and a pout present on his face._ _

__“So what are you going to do now that you know? Are you going to spread it around? Are you going to stop being our friend? Stop being your friend’s friend?” Oikawa asked on a more serious note._ _

__“Ehm of course not,” he uttered automatically. He could never imagine spreading those rumours he was so afraid of himself. Nor could he really imagine a world where Oikawa and Iwaizumi were not his friends. They were probably not the closest of his friends, but they were his friends nonetheless._ _

__“Then what is your problem exactly? You said you have problems accepting your friend,” Iwaizumi asked, curiosity rather than irritation could now be detected on his face._ _

__Kuroo looked at them for some long seconds. They were looking back, clearly giving him time to form his thoughts. He suddenly had the urge to just tell them the truth. They were both in a homosexual relationship, there was no way they would judge him. It felt just so easy to slip that little information out, to let go of everything he had kept inside. But saying it out loud made everything more real, solidified the fact that he was ..that kind of person. Was he ready for that? Was he-_ _

__“It was me, I am the friend,” Kuroo blurted out before he could finish his thought process, and as he realized what he just said, he clapped his available hand over his mouth and muttered a shocked ‘fuck’._ _

__Whatever they had expected Kuroo to say, it was clearly not that. Both of their mouths fell open, looking similarly dumbstruck by that information. Oikawa opened his mouth several times, obviously failing to say anything coherent before he could offer a simple,_ _

__“What?”_ _

__Kuroo considered for a moment to just joke it away. To pretend it was just a joke to see their shocked expressions. But how would that solve anything? How would denying everything for eternity solve anything? He was in a safe environment, he just knew it._ _

__This was a big step for him. Even admitting that he was actually denying a truth about himself was something so new to him. Just a few hours ago he had held on to the hope that it was a phase, something that happened in a moment of insanity. But this belief had slowly been harder and harder to keep onto as time had gone by, and this conversation, this openness had just made it impossible. Made him really realize that yes, he could no longer deny that he was attracted to Tsukishima. Felt something for the guy._ _

__“I - I’m interested in a guy and I do not know how to deal with that fact,” Kuroo admitted on a large outbreath._ _

__And suddenly it felt like a million things had been lifted from his shoulders. Like he had been going around for the longest of times with an unbearable weight on himself. One that he had not realized had really been there before it was gone. It felt like such a relief. He had let go and it was not the end of the world._ _

__“Oh,” the pair simultaneously said and looked at each other in what Kuroo thought was to confirm that they had heard right._ _

__“Tetsu-chan,” Oikawa exclaimed once he had gotten over his initial shock._ _

__“It is Tsukishima, isn’t it?” Iwaizumi asked calmly with a knowing smile on his lips, raising an eyebrow._ _

__“N-no w-what no, never. Why would you ever think that?” Kuroo spluttered, his face turning into a deep shade of red. His face was burning, and Kuroo was sure that this level of embarrassment had to cause a fever. He could maybe admit in front of two guys in a homosexual relationship that he was into a guy, but admitting who it was was something entirely different. Especially since they knew him._ _

__“What? Chopstick-chan?” Oikawa asked in disbelief._ _

__“Trashykawa, stop giving Tsukishima rude nicknames every time you talk about him,” Iwaizumi said with an exasperated sigh._ _

__“Then stop giving me rude nicknames, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa pouted._ _

__“Anyways,” Iwaizumi said as he ignored Oikawa’s childishness. “Now everything between you two guys makes so much more sense,” he said calmly, apparently also choosing to ignore Kuroo’s denial._ _

__“I said it’s not-” Kuroo started to protest, still flaming red in his face, but the deadpanned look he received from Iwaizumi made him stop. “Ok ok, it’s him...but… please don’t say anything,” he mumbled._ _

__“Ok firstly, you have a shitty taste in guys. Secondly, why would you ever think that we would say anything? This is a thing that we have been trying to hide for years, the last thing we would ever do is throw someone in a similar situation under the bus,” Oikawa said as he shifted back to his unusual seriousness._ _

__“In regards to your first point, the same thing could be said about Iwaizumi,” Kuroo snickered back at Oikawa, mostly to try to turn the situation away from the seriousness. The seriousness was good, he needed it, but he also did not know how to deal with it._ _

__“When did you become such a little shit?” Oikawa growled displeased, then suddenly looked as if he was struck by something horrifying. “Wait, does that mean you have ‘done something gay’ with _him_? And damn, what does even ‘something’ mean?”_ _

__“Ahhaha..” Kuroo laughed awkwardly as he remembered that he had indeed admitted to that. However, it felt ten times worse now that they knew who he had done it with. “Well, yeah...though I do not think I wanna go into details about it.”_ _

__“That means that you guys did more than kissing,” Oikawa said in a gasp. His expression looked as if he was trying to create his own scenario about what happened between them, but seemed to struggle with actually imagining it._ _

__“We keep getting off-topic here, but Kuroo,” Iwaizumi started, looking actually kind of sad. “I am sorry to hear that you are struggling to accept yourself. I don't really know what to tell you to make you realize that there is nothing wrong with you. But just know that you always have us as your friends, and I think more people around you will accept you than you may think. Our generation is different.”_ _

__“What if words got out?” Kuroo asked earnestly, his eyes pleading the pair to give him a reassuring answer._ _

__“You cannot live your entire life based on what-ifs. The only thing we know for sure is here and now. And I guess the question right now is whether living in denial and fear is really the life you want to live. Is it healthy?” Iwaizumi asked, pulling Oikawa towards him and into a half embrace. “I never regretted my choice,” he ended with, looking down at Oikawa with such love in his eyes it was almost overwhelming._ _

__“What do you feel when you look at salt- ugm Tsukishima?“ Oikawa asked, and despite his almost slip up in the use of nicknames, his question was very sincere._ _

__Kuroo could not give an answer to that question. Did not know how. But he carried it with him as he left. On his walk home to his apartment, as he brushed his teeth, as he laid down on the bed, the question made him think of the million things he always felt when it came to the blond. How his heart always felt like it would beat out of his chest, the smile he felt like making, the electricity, the heat, the anticipation, the affection, the kisses, the humour. It was not like anything else he had ever experienced before._ _

__He was not 100% there yet. But Kuroo felt like he was on a path of discovery, moving in the right direction for the first time in a long time. After all, you can't run forever._ _


End file.
